


Forge your Future

by lover_of_blue_roses



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Gen, Gore, Magic, NaNoWriMo, NaNoWriMo 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 16:23:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 30,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9192623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lover_of_blue_roses/pseuds/lover_of_blue_roses
Summary: Young adults with magic must graduate from students under their mentor when there is war and become the soldiers their training has crafted them into. Looked down by their 'allies' because of their disabilities, differences and/or age they must fight to win the day. With magic, questionable allies, creatures.





	1. Prologue

The smell of burning towns couldn't compare to the sight of the whole island ablaze. Shahzadah Varzhang was huddled against Jenab's legs for comfort but Alima sits apart, her eyes unblinking and unable to look away from the sight. Night had long set which left the bright light source was the first, causing a beautiful reflection on the water. Even the moon which had hung fat and heavy in the sky earlier was obscured by the dark, black smoke. Jenab Kavran ran her hands through Shahzadah, making and unmaking braids just to be doing something; Shahzadah hums a lullaby tapping the melody against the hull ship. Alima Nahas doesn't. 

She doesn't fidget. She doesn't hum or speak. She doesn't move her hands. She just doesn't. Jenab can't piece her broken pieces back together anymore than Shahzadah can. Natsiq Umiaktorvik, the daughter of a teacher, who has big heart and soft hugs, might be able to help. Or maybe Alima needs less logic and structure and could use Dehqan. He is an animal trainer that uses to wild, non-domestic species, his brand of kindness might be what she needs. Or maybe she needs Reda El Srour, their mentor. But they didn't have Natsiq, Dehqan or Reda so they had to do with what they did have. 

Shahzadah stands up, the ship is small but not so much that it will rock at her movement, and extends her hand to Alima. Alima stares at it as if she doesn't understand and Shahzadah entwines her fingers with hers and pulls. And pulls until Alima is siting in front of Jenab who undoes her low ponytail to work in braids. Shahzadah sits across from her and pulls out a harp, softly singing.

So it was under the strain of a teen girl's voice that the ship sailed passed the horror of the destruction of a trading island.


	2. Chapter 2

Earlier that day…

Alima and Ihaia were cuddled together watching Musfira and Shahzadah rig the MLT to give off false readings. Ihaia Hasti, who was trying to draw the scene kept stopping to laugh uncontrollably. "Is there going to be any paint left in that when you're done?"

Musfira shot Ihaia a stern glare, they were only cousins but they had grown in each other's pockets to the point where they behaved like siblings. "We will be successful just you watch!" Musfira had said it seriously but she looked like an exploded rainbow.

This time both Alima and Ihaia laughed, she more gently then him, "Yeah, but at what cost?" Alima wasn't sure how well that paint would come out of clothes and whilst she knew that Musfira had a change of clothes, Shahzadah might spend all day looking like that.

Alima sighed, basking in the light floaty happiness as she rests, on the knife's edge between sleep and waking. Ihaia shakes his head despairing of their antics by now and goes back to drawing.

There is a commotion and people start pouring into the courtyard. First Dehqan, clothes covered in animal hair and wicked bed hair from riding. He's out of breath and looks alarmed. The next is Zheela, eyes wide, brown and full of fear. They both come from up the hill in the west. Then Tauret, looking not so much afraid as upset. Lastly, all their mentors, some teachers and clan heads come with looks that vary from resided to upset to fearful. 

Shahzadah eyes flash red as she puts everything back where it belongs before closing the back panel of the MLT and stepping towards them. She won't back down from a challenge, she isn't afraid and even if she is, no one needs to know that.

The head of the Hakopa clan speaks up first and his words match the reputation of his clan's. "War has been declared by Westmere, they are attacking Usihr as we speak. The Dimn Highlanders responded immediately to our request for help, all they ask is that we send warriors for their border."

The man is sending us to war, to the first war we will know and he has no words of pity for the disturbance this will cause us. He is heartless, cold and distant. It's little wonder their clan has such a reputation with men like him representing them. 

Their teachers and mentors look suitably upset, they have trained them all our lives for this but still they had hoped that there wouldn’t be need for it and they could take care of the them. They care. 

The clan heads looks at each other wondering if they can continue on for they must continue to deal with us. Samir, the head of the Nahas clan and Alima's father has nothing to say and only give his daughter a look. Alima sneers in her mind and hides her face in Ihaia's shoulder, sometimes she wants to die to spite him. To spite all of those that don't care, that see warriors as disposable and not worth a damn. 

Ihaia's grip tights and drops his drawing so that he might embrace her tightly with both arms. He and others like him are some days all that stays her hand from suicide, their love and compassion towards her and what she will sacrifice to protect her people. 

Illivat Umiaktorvik, their favorite teacher steps forward and brief them all the plan. They will all follow the same instructions; their mentors will not come with them, they will defend the homelands whilst their students go to die on foreign shores.

Eighteen will go, all students of the same class. They are to stay in their groups of three that they normally train in for a total of 6 groups. Three groups are close, members all-knowing each other because of their families. Group 852 of Dehqan, Musfira and Zheela; group 371 of Alima, Jenab and Shahzadah; group 406 of Ihaia, Natsiq and Tauret. 

To travel quickly and safely from the captain of the Archipelago to the shores of the Dimn Highlands they are to travel in small ships by groups. Their mentors see them off and they are genuine in their fear, sorrow and love. The risk is lowest at an inactive battlefield compare to where their mentors will fight. Still they are just barely adults, the oldest 21 and for the first time ever they will be leaving their archipelago to go to the main lands. They are afraid, they don't know where they are going and they don't know what their country will be like when they get home.

They know logically that their warriors are strong and that they were always prepared for things like this but still they worry, they worry they will lose the war but most of all they worry they will lose what they know and love, love most… home. 

Reda hugs each of his pupils, tells them some cheesy line about determination, courage or love and then kisses them on the forehead. And as afraid as they are for what they must face, they fear for him, one of the strongest warriors of the Archipelago and repeat equally horrible lines they know he will love. 

Alima looks towards at the end of the pier next to the tiny boat that will carry her for a little more than 2 days, '50 hours if you can control the winds right and go straight,' and she sighs. Reda who is talking to Jenab passionately, wraps his arm around Alima's shoulders without looks just to be there for her. It's a beautiful day the sky almost the same color as the ocean and she must do this.

She slips out from under her mentor's arm and he doesn't resist, nothing more to say, they've said all their goodbyes and she goes down the wooden walkway. The beach on either side is covered in dead, dry seaweed turned all brown. The wind is strong and aside from barely getting the smell of the sea to cover the smell of rotting seaweed, it's stirs the few hairs that aren't in her ponytail. 

It would look nice on a postcard this view, with the wooden pallet, the clear sky and the blue ocean, but this isn't a postcard and it smells and Alima isn't going on some vacation or holiday. 

Her thoughts are morose and continuously pessimistic. Shahzadah runs pass her, stealing her suitcase along the way to the ship. Alima would normally play along but not today. Not now. Now there is war. 

"The test of the morality of a society is what it does for its children." -Dietrich Bonhoeffer


	3. Chapter 3

Group 406 passes Usihr after the sun has set and it looks horrific. Like a great big bonfire, the whole thing a lit, burning bright.

"What are the chances that there are casualties?" asks Tauret leaning on the side of the boat at the sight.

Natsiq doesn't look at all and answers with looking remotely in Tauret's direction, "For those that life on the island really low. They know they are the closest to the main land and those the first anyone would take. Not to mention its trade capital, so it seems economically like a smart idea. Cripple your enemy and all. But just because our people are safe because they prepared for this, the foreign traders might have been put in danger and of course those that attack Usihr."

Ihaia rolls so she's facing Natsiq instead of the burning island behind him, "And what? You would have our enemies, the people that attack us all live? We must do what is necessary to protect our people first, even if that means sinking the ships that attack us. We must protect ourselves first."

Tauret is kind but in a practical way, whilst Natsiq does the best she can for everyone regardless of silly things like alliance. "That doesn't mean we should be flippant about it."

Tauret still doesn't look away from the sight but does respond to Natsiq. "I'm not being flippant about it, I just wanted your thoughts on the matter. And these Westmerens don't need our help, they are plenty incompetent even without us. Look at that ship," Tauret points off into the distance and Natsiq grabs a pair of binoculars. 

There is an enemy ship stuck on a cay. "Well such foolishness is truly…" Natsiq doesn't quite know what to say or what expression to have.

Ihaia laughs and Tauret grins. "We are protecting our people, not killing. Not murdering but defending ourselves. Can you understand that they are in the wrong? They are foolhardy and reckless."

Natsiq smiles, for the routes to and from the island are known by Westmere as they trade together, it was really foolish of them to travel this way and end up on a cay. "I can think of people in group 371 that are foolhardy and reckless."

Ihaia pretends that the mention of his girlfriend's group doesn't give him a stupid, sappy expression. Tauret is the one to say something, "Yeah but Shahzadah and Jenab are at least competent."

They sailed on until they were passing the 'battlefield.' Battle water? Natsiq was being unreasonable fussy with the idea of war and battle. Tauret was more resided than anything, they had been raised to be warriors. She had been waiting for this day since she was twelve. Ihaia didn't dare say anything but he was anxious to prove himself. His pride had made him eager to prove himself and what better challenge than battle?

The current rather abruptly divided into two different directions. It was a protection, stopping ships from sailing either way. No one could accidentally end up there and no enemy ship could sail out. It also served to corner the enemy ships as they couldn't retreat, just wait for the Archipelago's ship to surround them. They sail the border of the current, as it was stopping them from traveling in a straight line to their destination. Following the border was the easiest way to say on course and also the probably the fastest way.

They were passing a rock jutting through the surface when their ship was stopped by a mami wata, a water humanoid. They were some of the mermaids that inhabited the islands' water. These ones had snake tails and dark skin and where the protectors of the islands. They had been the ones to create the boundary current. This mami wata is only slightly bigger than humans and she curled around the front of the ship with her tail and head lolled against her shoulders, black soulful eyes staring at them. She didn't speak at first, just looked at them with a look that turn from questioning and fierce to smile and smiling. "Children from the international island not evacuees. My, what brings you here?" 

Natsiq and Tauret share a look but it is Ihaia that speaks, "War." The girls say nothing but nod. 

The mami wata's expression turns more sympathetic. "We can handle it." And indeed they probably can, but never the less the warriors will still stand as the last defense. But that is their mentors, they have a scary job without guardian spirits or creatures to act as buffers. 

"We have no doubt that you can protect the waters but we are to fight on land, the mainland. That's where we are headed," Ihaia adds.

The mami wata's eyebrows purse lightly. "But if enemy ships can't come to attack you or render your enemies, what must you go fight for?"

Natsiq swallows loudly and Tauret pats her shoulder, "We might be protected because of the water that surrounds us but if Westmere can't attack us you think that will stop them? They aren't going to kill all their soldiers by crashing them on our shores. They will turn to their neighbors and attack them. That's where we are going, to protect the border between Westmere and the Dimn Highlands."

"Oh, sweet children. Truly you are as to be as great as your ancestors, aren't you?" The reason that mami watas, some of the most powerful magical creatures in the world, protect the Archipelago is because their ancestors proved themselves worthy. There could be fewer statements more complimentary. "Was this a voluntary mission?" 

Natsiq shakes her head and Tauret nods. Ihaia just sighs at them. "It's more complicated than that," he tells her truthfully. "Become a warrior is voluntary and at any point we can stop. And whilst we can normally chose missions, this is war. We don't have to go but none of us considered it. We wouldn't stop because we love our jobs and what we do but also because people need us. If even one of us saves one life, it will have been all worth it."

The mermaid looks like this answered her question but now a new one lurks in her expression, "This mission is more dangerous than being the last line of defense, so why do they send you students who have never seen war rather than our mentors?"

Natsiq smiles sardonically, "Because we have never seen war."

Tauret adds to that vague statement, "It is to be good experience. True magical power cannot flourish with a safety net. We must jump into the deep end, we must be sink or swim."

The mami wata smiles and nods in remembrance, being an almost immortal, all powerful being makes their struggle for power and magic trivial and odd to magically beings but she says nothing rude or discouraging like others might. "Then I wish all the luck in your future endeavors, and might use your mentors teachings and understanding of Hokroni principles to serve best your cause." She unwraps herself from the bow and slides back into the water.

The three young adults huddle to look over the side of the ship and thank her for her well wishes and give her some too. And with a wave she disappears under the dark waves.

They hurry back to their seats and hold on tightly just as a strong currents stares carrying their boat off. The mami wata's magic won't bring them all the way to the shore but it will speed up part of the journey a lot. 

"It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog."-Mark Twain


	4. Chapter 4

When Team 852 arrive, the two other teams that concern them are there already sitting around a fire talking in hushed voices. Dehqan pats Ihaia on the back and he turns and smiles bright back at him.

"Argh, I haven't had nearly enough sleep to be that cheerful," Zheela whines from behind him. 

"Why are you guys so late?" Shahzadah asks her cousin without any sympathy. 

"Front wind," Musfira says pulling Ihaia hair as she walks around the bonfire. Ihaia sticks his tongue out at her.

"Children, now the Highland guide will be here soon try and behave," Alima orders grumpily. And indeed within the next fifteen minutes their new team members come. The Dimn Highlanders or as they call themselves, Jiangliangians, are four per teams of three Archipelagoers, making this new, mixed groups of seven. They head out based on whether all of the groups there yet or not. Team 852 is missing two members and team 406 is missing one member. Some of the teams from the Archipelago also have yet to arrive but every member of team 371 one is here so they head out straight away.

It's a two day journey from the shore to the inland part of the border they are tasked with protecting. They travel by means of magically running, a skill team 371 excels at because their mentor is always making them run laps around the island, however their new Highlander team members aren't so fast and with lower stamina. The team must therefore travel at a rate of about 100 km/day. 

They set up camp on the flat lands between the river that makes the border and the mountains. Teams 406 and 852 will guard the mountain on their sides, team 371 is just to stop a straight forward frontal attack. They have been assigned the flatland because Jenab can't or can only with great difficulty fight on the inclined, rocky, shifting mountain side with her wheelchair. 

The Jiangliangians understand this makes fighting on mountains less than ideal but they can barely wrap their minds around the idea that she can fight without the use of her legs, let along confided to a wheelchair. 

"I have heard much about your country's different ways but this is new to even me," Jin-Magir, the quiet scholar of the group says. 

Shahzadah smiles with pride. "It is new even for us. She is the first in our recorded history to be a front line fighter in a wheelchair. We have many amputees that are warriors and if for whatever reason they can't fight but wish to help their are still many things the disable can do to help our cause. But Jenab," she is smiling so hard she cannot speak, only beam with love and pride. She stops herself though and continues, "When Jenab was first injured she wanted come to our country because of this code but what the ambassador that was sent to collect her didn't understand was that she didn't wish to help behind the scenes. She was still just as competent a fighter as anyone else and she wanted to prove herself. So she trained very hard with my mentor and when it came time to do the physical course she passed it like every other normal student to enter the academy."

Jin-Magir nods, "It must take great strength of will and conviction to do this."

Shahzadah grins more, "That's what team 371 is all about." 

Alima, who was doubt checking the wards, comes ambling towards them. "Jenab may be disabled but she is in peak healthy and fitness," she lifts a delicately curved eyebrow, "The same can't be said for you."

Jin-Magir lowers his head in concession. "Indeed. I am ill and if it were not for my magic I would be confided to a bed. Even with it I must still often rest and take things easily."

Jenab and Shallurum have come back from collecting rocks to make a fire pit. Shallurum is not just a member of Jin-Magir's team but his best friend who knows him best, "And despite this he is one of the strongest warriors of Jiangliang."

Jenab is smiling at all of them, "People aren't to be limited by their bodies limitation because magic goes so much more beyond that." 

The team continue to talk of trivia about each other and their fighting systems and dedicated magics as they set up camp. The islanders are use to sleeping under the open sky in their sleeping bags but the Highlanders aren't. They are use to camping in mountains that now cold, wind and even snow all winter long. But this are flatland in the very south of their country and so they don't need tents. Jin-Magir and Lugalme still decide to share one because his illness is more manageable without the night's chill and because she is whiny and apparently use to comforts . 

Lugalme seems a bit unreasonable, unwilling to listen to Shallurum despite his years of experience and standing. Aea, the other Highlander woman, say that this is because she use to be under Shallurum's command before he was promoted to another branch and she doesn't want to deal with him anymore. Alima finds this trivial but the system on the Archipelago with mentor and groups of three is different from their system. She has groups, of three with a mentor after they finish the academy at 12, and once they reach the all reach the age of 16 they can choose to disband and work alone. 

But in the Dimn Highlands they have squads of a hundred or so members that are based on location and application of magic, being assigned a squad as soon as they graduate the academy at 16. They then can move through the ranks based on their merits and be transferred to other squads if they chose to. For the entire country there are only 24 squads. Each of these squads leader where then divide into six and tasked with protecting the border between Westmere with their allies for the eastern archipelago. 

Team 371 was a little daunted at working both with such powerful and famous people, their egos kept bumming and Alima was concerned that they were all old figure heads that haven't fought in ages.

Shahzadah had a magic ability of vision which was what the Varzhang clan was most know for and she was using it to make such that their perimeter had no blind spot or holes. They had set up the perimeter using Musfira's written sealing magic and some Highlander chants, but she could never be too careful. What was the purpose of her talent if she was never going to use it to protect her friends and allies. 

Alima came up behind her, she too had familial magic but it was not the gift of being all seeing but controlling magic. "It seems quiet tonight."

"Our wards will wake us should anyone become visible but still I think conjure a guardian," Shahzadah said, chewing at her hangnail. 

"Just an summoning is fine," Alima answered with surety. They shared a glance, Alima could summon fallow deer and Shahzadah could summon falcons, both were useful but Alima's could watch and protect, Shahzadah's were considerable more useful for observation and messaging. Shahzadah nodded at Alima's decision. Alima might be insecure and be partly dead inside but she was an intelligent, competent leader that was very protective of her team. 

And so Alima, pricked her finger with a throwing needle in her weapons pouch and flicked the blood onto the ground reciting the words and gestures of power. "And from the ground to anima, make free of gravity the psionic of metal," The deer is female, small and with small antlers. "Hide among the tall grass and alter us when the time comes."

Jin-Magir watches the deer silently as she walks off into the dry brown grass to become invisible. "Your words of power are different than ours."

"I know," Alima says not looking at him. "As are our classification of magic."

"Really? I didn't know that. But you do still have the same amount?"

"Yes. We have 78 types of magic, separated in two, Major and Minor and the separation of 4 types of Minor like you. But that is all we have in common. Our types do not contain the same as yours. Our 4 small branches don't carry the same names. Our Majors are similar but not identity. We are not from the mainland. We haven't been interacting for thousands of years. Our thoughts and ideas are still are own," Alima has many insecurities and much she would feel ashamed of, but not her culture, her heritage or her people's ways. 

Lugalme flushes in perceived ridicule, its not her fault she doesn't know this. The people of Kresic, as the outsiders call the islanders, are very secretive. "But you must still bind your magical potential to three?"

Alima pauses in thought and Jenab answers, "Our shared pool is greater than yours though, so its very much secondary." Jenab might be an islander now, but she was born on the mainland and she remembers how revolutionary the magic of the archipelago was. 

The Highlanders seemed stunned by this revelation. All four of them are slacked jawed with wide eyes, eyebrows climbing up. "How great are we talking about here?" Aea finally says, she is looking at them finally with respect of their powers. At first they were less than impressed with the fact that they, the Leaders of the Squads were to be saddled with green children that were barely warriors. 

"Your shared magic is about 50 lines of power and speed, strength enhancements that only the top 5 of your squads master and the ability to direct and flow chosen magic through a sword. We have displacements magics, fire magic even beyond our chosen three, several illusions, muscle enhancements magic that is more varied and powerful than yours and I'm sure there is more but those are the first that come to mind," Jenab told her flippantly, but she truly understood the gift it was to have been trained on the archipelago and to embarrass their ways. 

When she sent letters to her father, who still lived in her home country of Ar-Radir, he seemed baffled by all the way of live she described as normal because she'd been there just so long. Everyone lived their lives by the Hokroni principles even if they changed a little from island to island, the core was the same, it was just the superfluous details that changed. Her father, ruler of Ar-Radir, had to deal with the different religion, making them all co-exist and live in peace. 

Even the idea of how she was taught magic at a fundamental level was different. The mainland taught magic by the idea that their were 78 magics and students had to pick three that would then be the only ones they could use for the rest of their lives. The first thing Jenab was taught on the archipelago was that all magic existed on two axes. And all the points of these axes made up all the 78 magics and the only way they could make an informed decision about something so important was to truly understand them. 

The axis of presence which was made of 13 elements that made up all words basic words of power.

Then there was the axis of non-presence which was only made of 6. 

Magic is complicated business that requires effort and dedication. Everyone had the potential to use it but only the educated and trained can. And they better because war isn't coming, it's here and battle is on the horizon. 

"Ideologies separate us. Dreams and anguish should bring us together, if not then what is the meaning of the felting life we are given? For those that don't fight for what they want, deserve what they get."- Asuilaak (Eugene Lonesco)


	5. Chapter 5

The Westmerens attacked early. The sun was up but the camp wasn't, they were still sleeping peacefully. At the same time the wards sounded, Alima's deer grunted. They all rolled out of bed, armed and on their feet expect for Alima that whined and snuggled into her pillows. 

They hadn't changed clothes, just taken off their weapons to sleep in safety and comfort, but when they had woken up they had all picked up whatever they had taken off. Jenab had woken up and pulled herself up into her wheel chair before buckling herself in it. 

Both the islanders and the allies went toward into the battle, however Shahzadah and Jenab were much faster. They moved so much faster in fact that they were able to dash forward and pull a rope between them to trip most of their enemies that had foolishly attacked in a V formation at a speed that reduced their respond time to low. Low enough that they all fell, tripping over the rope. Before they even hit dirt, Jenab made a snapping monition and the other end of the rope can to her without any of it being trapped under their fallen bodies. 

It was a move that not only required great skill, talent and perfect timing but also excellent teamwork. They didn't hesitate to take the advantage, Shahzadah performing a complicated conjuring and Jenab using physical enhanced moves to retrain or render unconscious. 

"Let it be in shadow, metal and psion that there be no ground or cold but heat," With these words and the matching gestures blades of orange and blue fire appeared in each of Shahzadah's hands. 

Jenab expertly maneuvered her wheelchair between the people with just one hand, striking them out with just one blast of raw strength magic at their magical pressure points. The warriors, which had gotten up as soon as they fell down not hurt just slowed, tried to stop her once back on their feet. They hadn't expected her to dodge them by tilting her wheelchair to one wheel or even when necessary tipping it over and catching herself on her forearm using her elbows and hands to push herself back up. Even pushing herself up and smacking people with the bottom of her wheelchair. 

Shahzadah could stab more or less indiscriminately and bring them down. She choose to stab in arms and legs, swiping between their blows and magic far to fast to be hit by them, because her fire blades naturally cauterized her wounds. She didn't have to worry about killing people and the horrible pain was enough to take them out of the fight, if she stabbed them in torso though she could hit a vital organ and could kill them. She didn't want to live with their lives on conscious so she didn't go for killing blows. 

The Highlanders did nothing but watch this terrifying spectral as 15 Westmerens were brought down. Not only were they fast unbelievable so, both to arrive at the scene and to fight, but they brought them all down with a single blow, not taking any damage themselves. The fight was almost beautiful, no move wasted, no magic lost and of course the perfect teamwork. They were never in each others ways, moving perfectly so that they all took down an equal number of warriors. 

"Well," Shallurum was the first to speak up, "You don't really need us, do you?"

Shahzadah, who had slept in her makeup and still looked perfect, flipped her shoulder length hair behind her ear, "If I recall correctly, last night Lugalme described us as barely adults, greenie, little children and far too inexperienced to have the mastery control and understand of our magic types and how they interact to be your equal."

Lugalme with her hair all falling out of its braid stood tall trying to tower of Shahzadah that stood at 1,80 and lecture her, "And I was right. You might have been able to fight these low leveled nobodies but what if they were a test to see the enemy's limits with a summoned watching on. They would see that you don't seem to have any magic type master let alone narrowed. All I can tell from yours is that it's a fire type. I didn't see anything else."

And she was apparently on a rolling turning to Jenab. It is easy for Lugalme to loom in front of a girl in a wheelchair so much younger and shorter than her, "You didn't have a plot, working with just one axis of magic like some infant. I honestly don't know why our country ever allied with yours, if the best they can do is some little girl in a wheelchair with singular-axis magic and some brat that cares so much about her looks that all she can do is untype specific magic."

Shallurum looks like he doesn't agree but he doesn't say anything. Jin-Magir is just a little out of breath; Aea looks indifferent to the whole tirade. 

Shahzadah makes as if to argue but Jenab puts a hand on her forearm. "This might be how you see us and how you feel but our enemies are at our feet. I know that the mainland views islanders as backward people living a very odd, restrictive way and yet despite being constantly underestimated we never seem to lose, to live up to our reputation of being weak and always seem make it out just fine. So you can say whatever you like about our magic but we won and that's what matters." Shallurum nods at this last part. He is the oldest of the Highlanders pushing 45 year of age and he seems to understand that battle is not about honor, pride and magic types but about surviving. 

Shahzadah and Jenab turn away from them and walk back towards camp, Shahzadah calling over her shoulder, "Take care of them, will you."

As they slowly walk back to camp they laugh lightly to each other, "Oh, but you don't have a magical type."

"Oh, but you must use both axes of magic."

"What on earth are you thinking?"

"It almost like we took them down no problem, no matter how we did. And I think we did very well thank you," the girls joke to each other being able to take Lugalme's criticism and not caring. Shahzadah's magic is in fact bound an branch on the axis of presences so unlike her peers that could choose any of three of the 78, she was limited to just 18. But rather than let that stop her she picked the ones that embodied victory, determination and inner strength.

Jenab had no limits on her choices but she made her decision before the accident that left her a paraplegic. In that way her magics don't help her, she is very much only powered by her will and magically enhanced strength. However the magics of dismantlement and will power happened to be the same as a traveling warrior from the archipelago and that is how Jenab first met Reda El Srour, the man that would be her mentor. Unlike her mentor and his mentor, Giv Mehrad, that had perfected the fight technique with these magics, she had chosen healing. With her fine control of precision magic it made her a talented front line medic. 

They arrive back at camp and Alima is stroking her deer which is sitting next to her around the fire. She is wrapped in her blanket and a heat spell. Despite not having any of her three magics being in fire she still can use it because of the shared pool of magic she shares with her people. It is a source of great pride for those from the archipelago that there source magic be so great, full and varied. 

Shahzadah slouches next to Alima on the logs they are using as makeshift seats, snuggling close to her heat. Jenab wheels next to them and they move to the end of the log to be next to her without any thing being said. "How was the morning adventure?" She puffs out through her smirk. 

"Screw you, how'd you know?" Shahzadah grumbles back, messing with her fingers as if she was going to preform gestures of power. 

Alima laughs and snuggles into Shahzadah hard until she tilt onto Jenab, who turns in place so that Shahzadah can rest on her lap rather than her wheels, "I'll answer just as soon as you stop messing about and actually cast a heat spell."

Shahzadah buried her head into Jenab's lap and mumbles before swing backwards into a sitting position. Alima might have a share fire magic but its one of Shahzadah specialty and its is quickly and powerful cast, heating the air around them in a toasty bubble and their respective seats. Alima yawn and stretches, finally getting a bit out of her blanket cocoon. "Well, I might not be as good as reading people as my forefathers but even I could tell the prejudice the hung about Lugalme. Shallurum cares for her and has wronged her someway in the past that makes him unwilling to argue with her. Jin-Magir is too soft spoken and Aea doesn't care on way or another unless it makes her look good. By extension anything that makes her look bad is not something she gonna wanna argue against."

Shahzadah groans some more back in Jenab's lap, Jenab coos softly and runs her fingers through Shahzadah's hair. It is normally very perfectly brushed and whilst the night's rest didn't disturb her makeup, her hair is poofing out and up a little giving her unflattering volume. Her face is too slender and   
chin too pointy for it to really suit her. "Why must we fight to protect people that wouldn't respect us?" It is the words of a tired person that has fought hard and well despite the restriction of her magics for very ungrateful people but those are borderline words of treason. 

Alima and Jenab both freeze sharing a look. Jenab has only been on the archipelago for some six years but even she knows this. It was drilled into her, the correct behavior is she wished to say and be part of the country. Alima tugs Shahzadah's hair, first softly on a strand, then more and more until Alima is almost ripping out chuck of her fine brown hair by the fist full. 

Shahzadah would had grunted at first, yelped and reared up like a horse shown fire. "By the vast ocean!" She cusses.

Alima drags Shahzadah's head close to her mouth so she might hiss into her ear, "By the vast oceans, talk like that will get you drowned. You speak of the same crimes of your forefathers. Watch that tongue of your or it might get cut."

Shahzadah tenses and her body gets stiff. She know realized her words, so careless and spiteful, as being a horrible offense. "I'm sorry," she pleads in a wide eyed, general way as if saying it air spirits. 

"You better be Varzhang, even I know better," Jenab scolds, she wouldn't have pulled Shahzadah's hair like that but she is as cold and as unfeeling as Alima can be. Alima is a woman that mostly feels numb all the time and isn't afraid of dishing it out at such talk. Maybe that is a trait Alima shares with her father, who always seems aloof and distant. It may be a Nahas trait or it may be a conditioned one. The fact does not waver, Alima is a dear friend of their that will cut down whatever or whoever is in the wrong.

"Mentor Reda isn't here so you'll have to apologies to us," Alima finally releases Shahzadah after staring her in the eyes as Shahzadah glanced from Alima's stony face to Jenab's disappointed one.

Shahzadah sits straight and makes no move to comb her hair, good, it means she is take this as must be. "I'm sorry for my words. They came from a place that was cold, lonely and unappreciated. My own success should have been enough. I shouldn't have been swayed by criticism from those who's opinion don't matter to me. I understand that my duty here is very important and despite the Highlanders disregard-"

Alima cuts her off with a movement, "Be respectful when apologizing."

Shahzadah nods quickly, she was being careless again, too focused on intend to watch her words, "Despite the Jiangliangians disregard for my services that should have stopped me from being proud to have accomplishments this morning. I understand that more important than my pride is the lives that I save by protecting the border and helping those that depend and rely on their government and by extension their army."

Alima's frown disappears so that only a slightly tired expression remains. Jenab, although, smiles widely and pats her cheek. "We fight to protect those that need our help because saving lives and peace is always the answer. And nothing, not pride nor anger will ever stop us on our mission," Jenab says pressing against Shahzadah's belt that bears the Hokroni's symbol. They all wear it somewhere on their body, often on metals plates welted to their clothes but also on back of jackets or on shoulder sleeves. It is a symbol of the history of the archipelago, their lifestyle and their code of ethics and morals. 

It is an abstract flower pattern that is symmetrical on six different axes. It is every much a big deal on the archipelago but its biggest for warriors. They all wear it at least once as a sign of graduation from the academy but also as a sign of maturity and duty. Most warriors wear it three times, on the back, on the arm and on a place of their choosing. Shahzadah only has it once on her person, as a metal engraving on her belt buckle. Her outfit is without sleeves and on her back is her clans crest. She never considered being it more than once because other than as a representation of duty she didn't think she needed reminding of Hokroni and its principles.

She know thinks she might be wrong, putting her hand over Jenab's her it rests still on her belt. Alima doesn't join in on the gesture but gets up to get breakfast and Shahzadah understands that she is forgiven, at least for now.

Returning with porridge and dried fruits Alima sits in such a way that Shahzadah must scoot until she is almost in Jenab's lap. Alima shakes her head and signs as if this was not her intent. She gives the food to Jenab and reaches for Shahzadah's ankles twisting her so she isn't facing the fire but rather front-to-back with Jenab. Alima also straddles the log as to be facing them. "I understand that this is so very new and different from all that we know but you are almost of age. In a month you will be eighteen and you will have no excuse of such behavior. You have often acted with great respect and understanding of the Hokroni, don't think that just because Mentor Reda isn't here to set the example, you should fall into bad behavior. I will be expecting better from you and that you watch yourself closely now."

Alima leans forward as if she was going to kiss Shahzadah's forehead but instead she comes real close. "Remember, remember and do what is right, what is just and what is Hokroni," Alima whispers pushing her thumb against Shahzadah's belt turning from petal to petal as she talks.

Shahzadah gulps and promise to try harder and do better in the future. They eat and everything seems to come to a calm. The Highlanders come back, Lugalme looking cranky. Jenab whines about not having made the right decision for her magics, wishing for heat magic that make Alima and Shahzadah so comfortable in their outfits that barely cover anything. And Shahzadah bickered by, as natural, that would she rather have a movement magic. To which the answer was always a variant of, Well, I've never need that to kick serious ass.

It seemed the that Shahzadah's careless words were to be a on time occurrence that wouldn't color the way her team mates treated her. In fact Shahzadah thought they weren't even going to mention it again until Alima does a few hour trip to team 852 and comes back with a pair of her own gloves with new engravings on the back. Alima has finger-less gloves with metal plating on the backs for defense, so that she hit swords out of her path and whatnot. When she comes back and throws them that Shahzadah there is written Mastini Mehrzad on the left with a Hokroni flower above. The right has Jahan Parsa with the flower below.

"Remember, remember.  
Honor the dead and protect the living.

Remember, remember.   
Eras will come and go   
But there will always be  
Peace on the islands behind the fog  
For there people are true of intent  
Just and wise   
Living as you have   
And all you shall know is peace  
For you and your children  
For we shall be beside you

Remember, remember my words  
In the generations to come  
Do not forget."

~Hokroni

"Love all. Trust a few. Do wrong to none." William Shakespeare


	6. Chapter 6

Team 371 had been stationed with the Highlanders for a week where they had only seen two of what seemed like scout parties of only 15 warriors. Neither had been a challenge to the archipelagoers who had dealt with all of them. This was because of their reaction time, how quickly they could go to the location, and the speed at which they would take them down. By the time the Highlanders showed up it was all done. 

The magical senses could sense other magical presence at about 5km much like the limit of eye sight. However Alima's summon, the doe had better night vision and was always awake and alert, powered by magic. This meant she was slightly better and fast to react to enemies in the perimeter. As soon as the deer became aware of any other presence, a magical back lash washed over them all, telling them the location, distance, and number of enemy warriors. 

The Highlander were kind of blown away by this use of summons. They all had the same summon regardless of rank and squad, only a few of them having an additional summon. In the stage where archipelago warriors are with their mentor after graduating from the academy they settle and pick summons that work best for them and their fighting style or work ethic. Also if they come from a clan they might have a familial summon. Shahzadah and Zheela both have bird summons because Varzhangs always do, while Nahas always have deer summons. 

Jenab being a non-native to the archipelago didn't have a familial summoning species that she shared with her family. Despite this she chose an animal from her homeland, a jack rabbit. Certainly a telling decision from a girl that has just been permanently bound to a wheelchair. 

Aea was just telling them about the common summon all Jiangliangians have which is huntsman spider, a very creepy, very large, scarily fast spider that they use to relay messages. They tell the spider the message and send it on its way. Which is considerable different from the messenger birds that Alima thought mountain people would us. But it turns out that birds are such an important and value food source that although they use to do that it got too dangerous.

Jenab and Shahzadah think the spider is cute and adorable but Alima thinks that no spider should be that big. The only other spider that 30 cm, long than her forearm, is the bird eating spider. Alima instead choose to pace around the camp site, going in and out of hearing range to avoid the conversation about how the spiders bring the messages directly to warriors and how Aea is often woken up by the giant spider. Alima would not what to see that first thing waking up, let alone have it on her poking her awake. 

It is in her pacing far from the camp that she feels it though. At first she thinks it just the gross thought of the spiders giving her the chills. But no the goosebumps Alima is feeling are different. When they are in the middle of the campsite, her magical senses match up with the perimeter perfectly, as they must for the perimeter to work, but here far from the campsite her sense cover a different area. And what she feels horrifies her more than the giant spiders. 

She wants to flare her magic like a bright light to the sky, it would certainly get her teams urgent attention but it would also most likely get the enemies'. Instead she turns around halfway so that she is perpendicular to the camp and starts signing. Jin-Magir was the first to notice and he pointed it out to Shahzadah and Jenab that instantly got the message. 

ENEMIES AT YOUR TWO O'CLOCK. OVER 50. WITH MAGICAL CREATURE.

Sign language was normally a more delicate way of communication with full sentences and proper grammar but the distance and urgency made Alima sign in exaggeratedly large with basic, key words. 

With a 'And from the ground to anima, make free of gravity the psionic of vast void' Shahzadah had summoned two Gyrfalcon falcon, the fast birds not just in her summons but some of the fast in the world and sent them off to team 406 and 852 with news to seal their camps and come start done to help. Magical creatures feel similar unless one is familiar with them but Alima couldn't be too careful, they were unbelievable dangerous to fight. 

Magical creatures come in two types born and created. Mermaids have children that are mermaids. Fauns make more fauns. They all have the same base line amount of magic and similar features, they are more powerful than humans with more magics generally all in one branch out of the four Major ones. 

Then there are created magical creatures. They are made from people that were once normal mortals but for whatever reason using more than three magics. It corrupted their soul and twisted their magic. The human body can't hold more than three but by force it, they make shape for the magic inside of them by sacrificing their soul. They are always terrible, horrible and cruel but also immensely powerful with no limit to type or branch. However they will never be able to master an type of magic or have an control. 

Team 371 fears, perhaps reasonably, that the Westmerens in their greed for power and their thirst for glory and battle have created monsters that they can't even control. It wouldn't be the first time in history, it wouldn't even be the first time in that country's recent history that such a thing has happened. Archipelagoers think that is horrifying beyond words but in the mainland it is different.

Not that it is not equally terrible but that is has happened before and its like this awful game of chicken. 'If you create one, we'll create one. Don't test us, you might do it first but don't think we can't retaliate and don't you dare think it would be as gruesome.' 

Team 371 was all geared up and ready to go and so where the Highlanders. The question was do they wait for the reinforcements or go now whilst they had some element of surprise. Jin-Magir was against a surprise attack, saying it wasn't honorable, but Shallurum was considerable more realistic. Aea wanted to do whatever Shallurum was for and Lugalme just wanted to do whatever Shallurum didn't want. But now wasn't the time to be petty about previous relationships they held before their promotions and the world opened up the them.

Shahzadah and Alima agreed that because speed was one of their biggest strengths, they had to go for it. Jenab deferred to their experience as she was the youngest by two years. Only 16 and eager to go fight in the battle as long as she had her friends back her up. And whilst Jin-Magir decide whether he stood his ground or helped his allies out, they shot off towards whatever dangers lay ahead.

"Everyone has things they can and cannot do. You do what I cannot do and I'll do what you can't. Even if that means you do nothing and I do everything." -Varzhang


	7. Chapter 7

Tauret, the team-appointed leader of 406, was facing south and saw Shahzadah's falcon first. It must have been her fastest because it went from a point in the sky to being on her arm in no time. "Emergency. All reinforcements requires." The bird then told her all the details as they packed up. It was quickly decided that the Highlanders would stay behind as last line of defense whilst the islanders would go and get out.

They breezed pass the 371's campsite and followed Jenab's obvious wheelchair tracks. The plain continued on past a river and downhill. Behind a glacial erratic they stopped only to see team 371 already there. The trick with magic sensing is that one can tell if there are magical presences in a 5km range but not always where or how many. 

The fact the enemy had so many warriors all in one place would work to their disadvantage because they couldn't sense that six new people had arrived near their encampment. "I see you also left your Highlanders behind," Ihaia whispered to Alima.

"Actually we couldn't convince them to come. Are you telling me your purposefully left yours behind?"

Ihaia shrugged and Alima pushed him in the shoulder, "Not cool, this could be very dangerous." The tone was scathing and cold but Ihaia knew that was just how Alima cared for people. 

"The better question is where is 852?" Tauret said in a muted tone. Alima might have filled in the spot as leader because her group was so dependent normally on mentor, Reda, but Tauret was a natural born leader and seemed very good at it. A good clear head in situations of stress, about to quickly ascertain the trouble and come up with the best plan of attack based on enemy and skill sets at her disposal. 

They waited crouched or sat on the ground behind the sole biggest border in the plain lands. Team 406 took another 5-10 minutes and when they can they didn't have any of their Highland allies either. "You'd think that our allies would be more supportive of us willing to die to protect their country," Shahzadah grumbled.

"Regardless of what silly people in power might want, say or do. What matters it what we must do. To protect people and save lives," Tauret isn't the most serious of the bunch but in this instant she speaks powerfully. Her left hand touching lightly the Hokroni flower stitched into the fabric of her shoulder. 

They all nod in silence agreement most touching their own symbols, Shahzadah curls her hands into fists on her lap making the metal on her gloves pull and shine. Then they all get to work. Zheela summons aren't falcons like her cousin, Shahzadah, but loons. Her loon will be used to scout of the area and see what is happening. Loons are aquatic and having no business being so far from the river but they hope that when it is flying people won't tell what it is. Whilst flying loons look like plump geese with seagull wings, however its head droops even more than similar aquatic birds. Tauret just hopes her enemies are as stupid or incompetent as the patrols that team 371 has met. Zheela hopes that her loon pops out of this existence should any harm come its way.

Natsiq recommenced a conjuring but unlike summonings, they have very distant magical presence and Tauret doesn't think its a good idea for re-con. Making it know to the enemies that someone is on to them. 

The loon carefully flies high over the camp, as to not get hit, but then has very little new to report. So it swoops down even lower and looks again. No sight of a magic creature. It swoops even lower and in lack of a tree to land on. A bird circling them could be suspicion but a bird, that's almost a duck, landing on their camp grounds would be worst. Right now Zheela is wishing she had a crow summons so that it could peck around without it being unnatural. 'I can't see anything,' is the only feeling Zheela is getting back from her loon. 

So Zheela insists, 'Go closer then, look closer. Find the magical creature.' 

And so the loon lands on the tallest, fanciest camps in the site. Pecking at the top with its beck hoping to see into the tent or be right on top of the magic creatures as to feel its presence. No summoning has any kind of strong ability to sense magical presence. They are too unnatural and human for them. The loon finally manages to worm its head into the smoke vent to try and see when it hears the humans below.

"Do that goose seem weird to you?"

"A little, would make for good supper anyways."

And so the loon pops out of this existence when threatened by a well wielded slingshot. 

Very much giving the game away, for only summons can disappear like that and the whole camp of Westmerens scramble for imminent attack, sounding the alarms, screaming, and, running like headless chickens but it is already too late. 

"The more you sweat in times of peace, the less you bleed in times of war." -Norman Schwarzkopf


	8. Chapter 8

The loon's poking around has been the teams plenty of time to set up. Zheela has summoned six more loons for her special fighting technique. The trouble with illusion and mind manipulation magics is that they take years to master, intense control and for most warriors that chose that path, end up weak and unable to take out any kind of strong opponent. Zheela however is a Varzhang, one of the four main and most powerful clan of the Archipelago, daughter of Arash, the most powerful warrior of the Varzhang in at least the last 200 years. Having also been limited to a branch of magic, just like her cousin, Zheela chose only mind magics. 

"Free the mind of all time and force, unbind spirit and essence, reduce to shadow and illumination," With the gestures of power the whole camp fall under a night sky. It is dark with only stars that cast no shadows. The teams were aware that this was her go-to attack and were prepared to strike under the cover of darkness, freaking out the wildly unprepared warriors.

Everyone sticks to their strength to take out the most, the quickest. Dehqan is all about his large, powerful animal summons to create chaos and stampedes. Not to mention how intimidating his summons are, they might not be as deadly as some venomous summons but they are very threatening. Dehqan just carefully flowed his 'loyalty' magic that allowed great control of all of his summons so they wouldn't get hurt and would do the most chaos. It took immense control and practice to be have so many summons. 

Musfira was all about sealing off the camp. Using ink, paper and throwing needles, she would stick the paper on the ground and write with magic infused ink carefully learned or created seals. Her magic, sealing magic was not normally considered battle magic, it was normally for people that weren't warriors because it took time, care and left one very exposed on the battlefield. One can stop drawing a seal but one can't use any other magic type until the seal in complete without it shorting out and wrecking the seal. 

But she could protect herself because she was so talented at hand to hand combat and Tauret had her back.

Tauret was all about wood creation and manipulation. Sprouting wooden vines to ensnare enemies, shooting out blocks to knock them out, whatever was need she could do. As Musfira went around the perimeter of their camp, she placed non lethal snares and Tauret could best watch over the battle and direct the teams. 

Natsiq wasn't fast or flexible, she was large and powerful, so naturally she had a fighting technique that best suited her build. She conjured 'hammers' for hammer throwing, which is to say that she was conjuring large heavy balls or iron and steel attacked to a string and handle that she could twirl and launch. She didn't go for the heaviest or most powerful in her arsenal, that would be a great waste of her strength magic. She just needed to take some lightweight warriors out so she was summoning hammers that were light and easy, throwing them at reasonable speeds. Some mocked her for her technique that took the warriors out one at a time until they noticed she was taking down at least three with each hit and could throw with both hands. 

Ihaia, as proud as a fool, loved battle and the chance to prove himself. He wasn't like most other members of 406 or even 371 and 852, he didn't have any magical or physical restraints nor did he impose them on himself. His family was live, loving and caring, he was from a powerful clan the Hasti and had learned and mastered all of his father's magical specialty, even improving them. And so Ihaia fought on the front line, but rather than taking on as many as would swarm him like Natsiq or Dehqan, he went after the strongest and took them out before they could say the words or perform the gestures of power. He was armed with a short, 'open' sword that could channel his powerful lightning magic. Unlike the swords the Highlanders fought with, his was open meaning that he channel rare, unprocessed or controlled magic in reckless but effective blasts. It was the best way he knew how to fight, not having the fine control over his magic that made Jenab, Alima and even Dehqan just powerful opponents. 

Team 371 was taking care of the magical creature that Zheela's loon had seen. It was a created rather than born, which made it the second most dangerous type of magical creatures in the world, the battle would be very difficult. They had been ready for Zheela's black out and had adjusted their eyes preemptively to the dark. When the loon disappeared and the rest cast their net of darkness. They had shot off in the direction of that tent. Team 371 was definitely the fast team, not just of these three but of all the six that came to the main land and made up that generation. Alima was more of a long distance and Jenab was more of a 'sprinter' in her racing wheelchair, being slower in her all sports wheel chair that had greater maneuverability. 

A conjuring was all it took for Jenab's wheelchair to temperately change one to the other so she could be the leaders of their dashing party. Shazadah's flame shield, that she had created to burn in front of them, was all that was need to stop anyone from attacking and stopping them. The other teams spread out behind them at their slower speed, stopping anyone from follow team 371. 

Shazadah's flames reduced the tent flap to ashed revealing the creature inside.


	9. Chapter 9

It was large, larger than a horse or even a buffalo, easily 2,5 m at the shoulder, covered in briskly brown fur matted with flesh. Where the fur didn't cover it, it's bones could be seen jutting through, revealing rotten flesh within. It's head was completely bone just a giant fox skull adored with giant sharp antlers, leering down at them with painted with blood and eyes of pure swirling, black shadow magic. 

It didn't quite rest on it's front legs like an animal, a human aspect remained, causing it to rest heavily on its hind legs. The arms where disproportionate being considerable longer than the legs and thicker. 

When it's tent was barged into the wendigo reared up and looked up with its vacant eyes. The power swarming around it was clogging up their senses unable to feel even a single magical present other than it, it was so overwhelming and uncontrolled. It felt like sandpaper on their sense, rubbing them raw of the flesh on their bones.

The wendigo charged cold magic and venom in its hands. Pressing its hands together to mix the magics, as if it had no control or abilities beyond magic, children of ten could internally mix magics. To be unable to do it was just mind blowing. They had read about created magical creatures but that couldn't compare to the reality of seeing on in real life and to stand in its presence. Why would anyone ever do such a thing to themselves? True the power was immense and unparalleled but they had been taught desperate times called for desperate measures. But Westmere had been the ones to declare war, to fight first, the hell was going on. This was over kill, even if just to trying and break the border. Which have Alima the sinking feeling that this was a test run. 

Team 371 was fast and light on their feet which meant they dodge the beam of mixed magic that shot at them, splitting apart, but the magic blew and torn across the field behind them, wrecking havoc across the tent. The wendigo roared and rather than try magic is speeded towards Shazadah with its horrific antlers. It had magically enhanced speed, and it would have surely been fast and terrifying if its enhancements reflected its magical reserves, but enhancements required control and so the creatures was only a little faster than the average warrior. No where fast enough to pin down Shazadah.

Instead she let it get close, because she was a short range fight, dodge out from his antlers and slashed it with her conjured fire. The smell of rotten meat that lingered in the air was briefly joined by the smell of cooked meat. The wendigo blasted out cold and gravity so intense that it slammed all of them against the flimsy tent walls. The cold was so strong that all the water vapor was frosting on the ground and sides. They felt themselves grow cold and Shazadah couldn't remotely summon any kind of fire magic in this circumstance.

Jenab would was dressed a little more modesty, and warmly than both of her team mates but found the cold just as bad or worse than them. She was after all, originally a desert dweller before she lived on the island and even though there was clothing pads around her metal guards they know felt like ice blocks on her arms. Never the less, her semi-permanent connection with sand magic in the ground was what she needed so she purposefully tilted her chair sideways until her head would have smashed the ground only stopped by one arm behind her on the floor holding her weight. The floor was ice and saturated with cold magic but she pushed and pushed until sand magic exploded from her and stumbled the wendigo. 

Another other opponent that won't have stopped them but the created magical creature could only think and do one thing at a time. So as he stumbled his cold and gravity magic disappeared leaving them all stumbling from the pressure and cold. Alima charge him with her magic, like Ihaia also had mastered her father's magical specialty. It was created from the transforming magic and shadow magic mixed carefully together to have controlling magic. Like powerful strings on a puppet her father had called it until he met his brother in law that actually had puppet master magic. But puppet only work is they don't resist and so is actually used on human sized puppets that fight in the puppeteers place, about to channel magic, take damage and have a variety of weapons or tools that the master can't, like be coated in poison. 

Alima snaked out shadows to grab the wendigo's and stop its movments. The only problem was the greater the will power or magic of what the shadows grabbed the less they could control or confine it. So Alima found her shadows ripping as the wendigo turned to look at her. It was pulling and pulling, but to Alima's horror, it wasn't pulling away from the shadows, not it had grabbed the shadow back with his own magic and was pulling on her magic. She could feel her eyes bleed from the pressure of its great power, if she released and it took her magic it would explode her insides. She pulled with all her will and nailed it in attempt to stops its progress. She soon realized that this technique was a great idea and gave her the ability to concentrate instead on his untangling her magic. 

Jenab was healing Shahzadah from the cold magic that was stopping her from conjuring anymore flames. If her magic had not been bond to a branch of magic and had she not chosen fire, she wouldn't have any problems but Shahzadah had not had a choice and made what she thought to be the decision of a bad situation. Before Jenab could finish though, Alima and the wendigo flew back from each other and stumbled. The wendigo stumbling so much as to fall onto its ass. Alima was lighter on her feet, Jenab wasn't sure what happened but she doesn't think either of them won what they were doing. It could have been mind magics or some type of illusion magic, its hard to tell with the wendigo.

It's magical presence is so overwhelming because doesn't just have three types of magics like a person or the full mastery of a branch and its 14- 18 magics like born magical creatures but rather some odd twenty magics that it couldn't control. It had a great amount of magic but no fine control. It didn't even seem to have the ability to mix magics internally. However its broad range of magics and shear overwhelming amount made it dangerous and unpredictable. There was no strategy to fit branch magic with its weakness, there was no hope of overwhelming it with numbers, all they had was their superior wit and control. 

Jenab thought to use this to her advantage, trapping the fallen wendigo with her sand magic. "Alima! Help which source?!" Jenab could only hope that whatever the two had fought over haven't hurt Alima in anyway that would stop her from fighting. 

Shahzadah understood that her help wasn't needed in this attack and was instead distracting the wendigo with unnecessarily large and bright flame attacks that previously missed. For whatever reason Jenab thought she could hold the wendigo with her sand magic, Shahzadah was going to help by distracting it from escaping but rather 'fighting off' her purposely inaccurate fire show. 

And so the one-track creature was completely unable to fight off the sand and fire magic at the same time, giving Alima the time to conjure shadows again and side them around Jenab's sand. "Okay, stop now!" Alima told Shahzadah would jumped back. The tent was now fully wrecked, the extreme cold and then the large flames had caused the cloth to be broken and burned everywhere, all that remained where the four corner pillars that were now just warped metal. 

The wendigo tried to stand up and go after Shahzadah but was stopped by strange shadows Alima had conjured. It bite at them and tried to tear it up with its sharp foxy teeth but ironically the shadows slipped out like sand through hands leaving it with the sand. It had tried to pull Alima's magic like it did last time but she had been really for that and pulled apart just before. Unable to stop once in motion, the creature had bound to Jenab's sand magic. This however didn't fall into a spirit or time magic on the non-presence axis but rather force.

And force magic is terribly wicked when wielded by a master magician like Jenab and a brilliant strategist like Alima. Having been bound to force make meant in simple terms that the harder the wendigo fought, the more magic it threw at it, the stronger its bonds would be. Alima had turned the magical source from Jenab to the wendigo without the prison losing its shape and purpose simply by baiting the creature with her shadows. 

The three of them went to stand next to each other and look at what they had accomplished, being told that they were some of the most promising warriors of their generations by their teachers and actually being able to take down a created magical creature were completely different feelings. Alima felt great pride and assured sense of self from being about to lead her team in this. Her mentor believe in her, but he believed in everyone as long as they were determined and followers of Hokroni. Her parents, peers and teachers, didn't though.

She had been the second born and so it didn't matter that she didn't want to be a warrior, she was of a great clan and she had to do them proud and that was that. At least she wasn't from the four founding clans, just the one of the main 12. She would go home and bring this news in front of her mother, she would finely earn the respect her magical talent and hard-work deserved. 

The other teams had finished and came to congratulate them, Zheela finally lifting the dark night, although she hadn't dismissed her loons that waddled behind her. None of them were injured, Dehqan was just messy, clothes rumpled and hair askew from dealing with his animal summons and Musfira had ink stains on her hands and wrists. 

"So how exactly did you pull this off?" Nastiq asked hugging Shahzadah from behind. 

"Changing the magical source from Jenab to the wendigo without compromising its function," Alima explained as if that was no big deal.

Ihaia also wrapped around Alima, grumbling, "And you just did that?"

"And I just did that," She smacked a kiss on his tattooed cheek, "because my team was there to help me."

Ihaia moved his girlfriend's ponytail so it wasn't in his face as much before adding disparagingly, "I don't think any amount of teamwork would have made it possible if it was team 406."

"We aren't that helpless!" Natsiq said at the same time that Tauret went, "That sounds about right." Natsiq was all scowls and a mock pout. 

Tauret laughed and ruffled Natsiq's hair, "That not say we're helpless, just that we would have done it differently. I'm sure eventually we will be strong enough to take down a magical creature but maybe not the same way."

Dehqan, would was the walking controversially of wild and serious, smiled kindly, 'Let's hope it doesn't come to that too soon. One was more than enough to deal with, but I would still like to know how you did it just in case." 

Alima sighed and put her hands up in the gesture of power for shadow magic. "Oh!" Everyone kind of simultaneously exclaimed.


	10. Chapter 10

"From the resting earth to dust of death, make wrought movement to souls," a voice like a reaper croaked out of a rotten throat, skewing blood as it conjured and controlled magic. It said the words but made no accompanying gestures. Normally without the gestures one magic would explode out of the body rather than flow out of the hands but this putrescent body is too far gone for it to matter. 

The teams surprise turns to horror as this magic speeds and encircles them, these children playing at war. The magic that they would call void and decay is dust and death in the hands of this monster. The wendigo might not be able to get free of Jenab's sand trap but that won't stop it. Instead of fighting its bonds, it peruses those that trapped it. Sending its magic not at the sand but at the archipelagoers. 

Musfira, Zheela, Shahzadah, Alima and Tauret see the magics and instinctively jump up. Jenab sees it but can't jump up, her physical prowess is great but in the end she is still in a wheelchair and a straight up jump is beyond her. Dehqan and Ihaia don't see it, distracted by the idea of winning their first battle. Nastiq is not fast, very well aware of her physical limits and so rather than try to save herself, she exudes magic from her feet. The equivalent as a magnet to this type of magic attack that uses resting earth as its baseline. 

Also though the equivalent to a big red target on her. The swarm of death magic instantly destories all her strength and she collapses under her own weight. Her muscle now longer about to function. 

Dehqan's summon is almost instantaneous in appearance and disappearance, sending up into the air. Tauret has made a cradle out of wood above the ground that suspends them all. Shahzadah lifts Jenab straight up with great speed, but unable to pass her with the wheelchair through the weaving of Tauret's cradle. Natsiq is too heavy for Alima to lift all by herself, she tries but can only lift her torso before Ihaia helps her. 

Tauret is distracted by the fall of her team mate and the very really danger they are all in that it takes her a moment to part the cradle and allow a big hole for Jenab. The wooden cradle is just large woven wood into a jungle gym like hammock that makes most movement in a wheelchair impossible. This is not an ideal situation and the danger the wendigo poses is very real. 

Magics are as often long distance as they are short; they are limited to whatever three magics they specialize in which means that Dehqan, Musfira and Shahzadah are all completely limited to short range. However the wendigo has dozens more to chose from. Natsiq, one of their best long distance warriors is unfortunately out. Jenab who does both long distance and short, is reduced to no offensive magics because her long range is sand magics which if used would counter and free the wendigo from its sandy prison and she can't use her short range without touching the ground to maneuver her wheelchair. That leaves her only her healing magic which is currently used on Natsiq. 

The creature rages and thrashes in its bonds. It's blood lust is tainting its magic and feels like acid to their senses, its rancid and disgusting. Its overwhelming their senses to the point where they can't feel the team members next to them. The creature stops its screaming and as it grows quiet, they fear its next move. 

They had the slightest advantage in the fact that it must speak to do magic, and that can tell them the next type of magic it will use. In the heat of battle warriors, the talent elite ones like them, generally use only either gestures or words. Most prefer gestures as they are fast and hard to track, leaving the enemy either in the dark as to the type of magic or too focused on their gestures leaving them open to attack. By restraining the wendigo in such a way that it can't bring its hands together to make gestures they have forced it to speak. This gives them a tiny window to defend themselves and counterattack. 

The creature starts chanting in its horrible, decrepit voice. 

But why not attack first? Ihaia unseals his conjuring scroll with a drop of his blood and an 'open' javelin pops into his hand. "Fill with energy at the drop of time without psionic," Ihaia's chant is serious and quiet, he can't gesture whilst holding the javelin

At the same time as the wendigo says, "Air will weigh as fire spreads and all the magic will be-" Created magical creatures like born ones, can't be killed or even hurt by normal weapons but it is hard to talk with a javelin in one's palette. Wendigo's are corrupted, twisted ground creatures, that are not bound to that branch, however their weakness is still air and fire, so lighting magic is especially damaging. 

The wendigo twitches in pain unable to dislodge the javelin or move its head, effectively pinned to the ground as the javelin goes through it's skull and is embedded in the ground. The archipelagoers however don't dare underestimate this creature again. "We're gonna need to dissipate its magics," Musfira says but they all cringe at the idea and refuse to acknowledge the statement, let alone look at her. 

Alima, who isn't the normally the leader that's Tauret's job, is the only one to really rally behind the idea. The idea is cruel and terrible and wouldn't be considered with a normal opinion and even now it wrangles against her Hokroni teachings, but the creature tried to do it to Alima without hesitation or reason. Killing an enemy on the battlefield, whilst not the archipelagoers way, is not unheard of or odd, but trying to dissipate ones magics is. And such a deed is considered a monstrosity, the wendigo had tried that on Alima, worse yet it had tried to rip the magics out of her. The former is horrible and debilitating but the latter is terribly painful and deadly. Alima has no sympathy for this thing, it isn't like a born creature with emotions or feelings, it is just a monster.

"Do you have a seal for that?"Alima asks with all seriousness.

Musfira, who is horrified enough at her own proposal, shakes her head, "I wouldn't even now where to start. I've never considered it. All I know is binding magics, which of course..."

Don't work on created creatures. No being binding magics limit an axis of magic, which whilst crippling in one branch born magical creatures, is useless in a creature that had so many magics types, in so many different branches. The two Varzhang, Zheela and Shahzadah, shiver at the remind of the manning that was done to their magics. 

Dehqan is the next to add to the conversation, all serious at this grave topic, 'Instead of sealing magic for such a feat, the use of decay magic. To destroy its magical core whilst still inside the creature. We need not take it out to destroy it.'

Various team members rub their solar plexus, behind where their magic and soul are stored. "Wouldn't that be dangerous?" Natsiq asks.

"What part of this isn't dangerous?" Ihaia counters immediately.

Alima gives him a stern look before looking and answering Natsiq, "Yes, your right. The magical backlash would be terrible. Without air or a soul to absorb the release of magic, all of it's magic would attack at once at full power. It could damage the land for miles. Or it could be much more localized and deadly, killing us all." They all feared this news. Alima of course was the only one to have ever seen a magical creature before when her team was young. When it had been her, Mastini and Jahan, the names she had carved onto Shahzadah's gloves. The team mates Alima had already lost, for she would always be the most damaged member of the teams. Alima had indeed already faced down a magical creature and lived but at such a cost. 

Last time she had been much younger, only 12 and unable to understand what strange magical creature was giving off this feeling. Unaware of the danger she and her friends where in. Her mentor, fast than her at the time, had gone ahead to respond to an urgent message. Alima can't had the control over her magic she now had as an adult, lashing out with everything she had in hopes to stop it. Drowning the creature in all the shadows she could conjure. But shadow don't hurt and she couldn't use control anything yet, so all it did was blind the creature and make it angry. It lashed out and killed Jahan, and so Alima lashed out with transformation magic turning wisps of darkness into bindings harder than steel that wrapped tighter and tighter, crushing and reducing the creature to nothing. The magics then had exploded into her shadow magic before flooding the air.

It had sensed Jahan's freshly empty body, without soul but still with linger magics and had swarmed, turning her into a different kind of monster. The kind that would hurt rather than kill. 

The kind that had douse the fire in Alima's eyes.

The kind that had changed Mastini.

The kind that put Jenab in her chair. 

But never again. Alima had learned and knew that killing a magical creature was a dangerous as leaving it alive. She knew, in theory, what could stop the monster. This wasn't some opponent they could bind and drain until their mentors would come to clean up the mess. This was the kind of monster that required sacrifice to be stopped. To have it's magic dissipated so that the body would become dust before it could hurt anyone.

A corrupt soul had ripped itself to shreds so that magic might have more space in the area behind its solar plexus. That creature was made the lost of its previous body's soul and could be stopped by another soul's insertion into the body. The body was rotten and would destroy the soul in time but it would be a natural death, so that it would be the end. 

A live lost for power.

So why not power lost for live?

Alima knew what she had to do now.

“Dream with my eyes open  
Sleep when I’m dead  
Love who my heart’s chosen  
Conquer what lies ahead”  
\- Ryan Follese


	11. Chapter 11

Tauret, Ihaia and Zheela had been discuss idea whilst Alima had been thinking. Their ideas were creative and original but childish and native, as to be expected from such green warriors. If they killed the creature in anyway, breaking container for all its magic, the backlash would be terrible.

If they dissipated the magics whilst still inside the creature, the backlash would be almost a bad.

And they didn't know how to pull the magics out and then dissipate them. Jenab was suggesting that if they killed it and then dissipated the magics fast enough, it could work. But such speed and finises was beyond even Shahzadah. 

Alima turned to look at her team mates, her look wasn't full of the love and devotion she felt, but rather empty and cold for if she allowed herself to feel it would bring tears to her eyes that she feared would never stop. "Never forget the lessons we have learned and their value," in each of her hands she clasps one of Jenab's and one of Shahzadah's, rubbing with her thumb over the Hokroni symbol engraved on Shahzadah's glove. 

"What are you going to do?" They both ask. Ihaia, who had been on the edge of the wooden cradle, crawls back to wrap around her. 

"What are you thinking of doing?" His tone is playful despite his words. He is so happy and full of joy all the time, she just loves him so much. She hasn't ever really fit in at home with her family but Ihaia and his family have been very good to her. Better than she maybe deserved, often responding to the kindness with cold aloofness to protect herself.

She smiles brokenly, "What I must to say to protect by friends, to hold this border, to save innocent and of course to stop the violence without escalating to that level." They shiver in fear, in the unspoken horror. That the way created creatures are normally dealt with is for the opposing side to create their own. Alima kisses her team mates on the cheek and forehead, she also kisses Ihaia briefly. "Do not forget our teachings. We must protect the living, be just and wise so that we might raise our children in peace and prosperity."

She hops down from the wooden cradle, deaf to the sounds of her team mates behind her crying for her, mourning her, begging her to stop, to reconsider. The wendigo can't form gestures, pin by the sand, nor use words of power, speared through the mouth, but it can still recklessly push magic through the ground hoping that raw power will stop her. And it probably would if she was conserving her magic, but as it stands Alima is trying to empty her chest of all her magic so that her soul can roll around the emptiness until she is ready to cough her soul out. Much like how the wendigo is pulling his magic out with a type or intent, she is pushing hers out in a rush.

This doesn't make her feel light or free of some great burden, no the lost of her magic makes her feel like she is dying inside, like the air has been punched out of her and she will never breath again. But she is not wrong, for the lost of all her magic will kill her, although not before she pushes her soul out killing her regardless, and indeed soon she will cease to breathe. 

The idea is terrible. It fills her with horror that could only compare to the horror of a created magical creature's presence on her senses. The wendigo seems confused by this strategy and seems to fear another trick pushing less insistently with its magic. For a one-track creature that can't even internally mix it's magic, this seems almost intelligent. Alima is upon the creature in only a few steps placing her palms on where it's cheeks might be, the javelin brushing her shoulder. She still has some magic in her and she keeps expelling it out wrapping the two of them in like a shadowy cocoon, her friends don't need to see her die and this might protect them should anything go wrong. 

The wendigo tries to bite her arm, which is impossible as it can't close its mouth because of the javelin, but not surprising. Born magical creatures have domains and features, the mermaids in the oceans with their fish tails or the sphinxes in the mountains with their feline body and feathery wings; created magical creatures only have instincts. The instinct that was used to create them. One becomes a wendigo by ripping up ones soul into small pieces, so that their soul might dissipate without it killing them instantly and then quickly eating someone to get their magics. They use their long clawed fingers to rip open chests and eat the insides. They start off eating humans but as the whole where their soul use to be shrinks they can also eat direct magic, like a summoned animal, or a born magical creature. 

This is how the wendigo is born so it is truly little surprise that in close quarters the monster's instinct would be to bite. But Alima is no fawn she doesn't fear a fox's bite. 

And that is her last thought as her soul is cough up out of her throat and into the creature's mouth. Not of her family, lover or team mates but about not being afraid anymore. No more misery, no more sadness, only justice. She doesn't think she did this to fulfill some distorted suicidal desire, she didn't do this to end her life but rather to say her friends. 

So maybe she is thinking of her friends in her finally moments. Of loving and being loved especially. She isn't afraid of doing what is right. 

Her soul is a mouthful, no bigger, choking and oozing this slimy luminescent blob down into the open, unable to close, mouth of the fox skull in some twisted parody of a kiss. Then she knows no more.

“Life is eternal, and love is immortal,  
death is only a horizon;   
And a horizon is nothing but the limit of our sight.”  
-Rossiter Worthington Raymond


	12. Chapter 12

Alima has that look in her eye like she must do it. Ihaia might be physically strong enough to hold her back but he would never. He is not her mother, he will never hold her back from doing whatever she wants. He still wishes what she wanted wasn't this.

It's not death she wants, she's not that scared, alone girl anymore. No what she wants to protect them all. Her team mates, him, the other islanders, the Highlanders that refused to join the battle despite that being their job but mostly the innocent civilians that deserve protection. He doesn't know what to do as she walks off, exploding her magic out to try and drain herself quickest. 

"We are going to fix this," Musfira says. Musfira is very much like her family the Mehrzad. Her father, Giv, and his star pupil and mentor of team 371, Reda El Srour, full of determination, inner strength and courage. Musfira doesn't look like some green young warrior. She looks like she did the day she stood up in front of all the clans and told them that no matter the danger the Varzhang had posed, it didn't mean murder was the answer, and it didn't mean the children would be punished for the crime of the parent. 

Some of the council thought it best to kill all the members of the Varzhang clan in order to stop them from ever being a threat again. Upon hearing of the fate that might befall her best friend. Musfira took a ship and sailed into the middle of the fog that surrounds the islands to beseech to the mermaids. She pleaded them to help her dearest friend and family. 

"You think, child, that there is anywhere on the green earth or in the blue seas that the Asuilaak or Hakopa would not search if they thought someone posed a threat to them and their children?" The mermaid was a undine, not completely unsympathetic to the begging child in tears.

"Then take the family where they can't be reached by mortal humans, take them under the water," Musfira would have done anything, even if it meant she would never she Zheela again, as long as it kept them safe.

"They won't be able to just live of air magic. No, humans are too fragile for the constant sustainment of magic. And emptying them of their magic to replace it with creature magic that can live in such conditions is a fate worse than death," The undine tried to comfort Musfira but the mermaid was cold and wet and the child was near hysterics, crying so hard and with such heaving sobs that she might fall off the boat. 

"There might be a way," says another mermaid, this one is a rusalka, unable to surface out of the water. She is limply holding onto the ship floating in the current. "I know of no way now that could do of such a thing but in theory sealing magic could be used to seal someones magic inside of them. By binding it to their body or even to their torso, they would be unable to perform any magics, and there forth be safe from prosecution."

"But I don't know any sealing magic," Musfira blurts. She wants to be saved her friend very much but doesn't understand how it could be possible. She is only 7, she hasn't chosen magics, learned how to use them, how are can she ever learn sealing magics enough to have the perfect control and absolute understanding to create a completely new spell or seal. 

"I could get some," Musfira replies boldly. Normal it is when one leaves the academy that they make a choice, after months and years of searching and thinking. Her friend's life is worth any and all sacrifices. "But I don't know who I could go for help. Sealing is not a magic favored by warriors and we have few mages on the archipelago. Only one I know is the Dehqan's father, the Sage Warrior would is long since dead."

"This is true, I fear that there will be no mentor for you. That there is no one who has any sealing magics and that all the information on it will be limited and about how it might play into other magics. We can not teach you for even if our magics weren't vastly different in restrictions, we have none."

Musfira looks hopeful and has started to stop crying, "No use for ink and paper under the sea?"

"No my child there isn't. If you are to learn, you must learn only from books. We can get these for you, for indeed there is no need for paper under the sea but of the thousands of sunken ships some will have books on this subject and a few will also have preservation, anti-water spells. If we do this for you, if we get these for you, you must promise to work hard to master the techniques and theory they contain. For without a mentor your success relies on your effort and hard work," The rusalka has used her magic to call a mami wata to her. She will spread the message to every creature in the sea. 'Look for books that contain information about sealing magics.'

Musfira is grinning now her dark skin hides her cheeks' flush and her eyes are wrinkled up hiding their redness. "I will work very hard. For I am a Mehrzad and there is nothing we can't accomplish if we set are minds to it."

"A word of wisdom before you leave child," The mami wata speaks softly, unlike the undine, who is the size of a child and the rusalka the size of an adult, the mami wata is the 8m about the size of a minke whale, "This journey will be hard but it will also take time, stall the council by making them give the Varzhang a prohibition period. I know many clans are against the idea of hurting this clan just not those of power. The few powerful clans will do this in order to placate the voice of the many. The many may not love this option but it will give you a few years to care out your plan. I wish you all the best of luck."

"Thank you, thank you," Musfira is bowing so much that her headband is slipping. Now all she needs to start studying and choosing sealing magics. With all this help she might be able to save her best friend, and of course an innocent family from being killed.

The mami wata reaches out a hand to push the headband back up, "No thank you. For you are full of joy and life, and a true understanding of what matters in life. You are all that we, mami watas could hope for in the future generation. Truly a just and wise soul." In the palm of her giant hand magic forms. "You are inner strength is a testament to you and your family, for you will live up to the Mehrzad name with your courage and determination."

With the blessing on the most important magical creatures for all on the archipelago, Musfira was ready to get to work. Despite for age, despite the fact she hasn't finished the academy let alone started it, she chose her magics. Zheela is concerned that her best friend is acting distant, no longer have time for her, only studying magics. But Zheela doesn't understand because if Musfira really wanted to study magics why not join the academy early? Why has she already chosen her magics? Why has Musfira chosen only sealing magics, magics that warriors can't use because they can't be used on the battlefield. And also had there been mages on the islands, civilians that master magic but not for combat, Zheela might have understood but all she see of her dearest friend is confusing and driving a wedge between them. 

Musfira thinks of telling Zheela a thousand times but knows that its puts Zheela's life in great risk if she were to know, also it would make Zheela worried and anxious that people are targeting her and her family making her day-to-day life more stressful and scary. 

And even though Zheela doesn't understand they remain friends because Zheela thinks the world of Musfira and respects her decisions even if sometimes it makes her feel left out and unworthy of her closest friend's trust. Years go by this way, Musfira doesn't stop Zheela from going the academy because she doesn't know how it will effect her cause. Will the Hakopa clan fear the Varzhang more is they are trained in battle magics? Will they see this willingness to fight for their country and government a sign that the Varzhangs are loyal to the system?

So Musfira sticks to her plan and studies sealing magic. The mermaids unearth for her texts that are thousands of years old and so not only in different languages but also dead languages or older version that are now confusing. But even if the information is confusing and enormous in volume, Musfira keeps on it to save her friend. Soon she understand the vague limits and parameter of her magic types and a plan forms; sealing a magical core. 

This means that Musfira must convince Zheela not to chose any magics, not one. Zheela doesn't understand and Musfira can't tell her. Zheela wants to chose magics, its a vital part of growing up, proving to people that she isn't a child but a warrior, but Musfira won't relent and keeps telling her not to. Zheela doesn't understand why but she does understand the determination and passion burning in her friend's eyes. And even though they have grown distant these past two years, Zheela trusts Musfira and waits. It gets her much scorn from her clan and their subservient clans but she does it anyways. When asked and pushed for a reason, Zheela summons that same fire and steel that she saw in Musfira's eyes and tells them nothing. 

When it is Musfira's turn to start the academy Zheela is there to support her and tells her that she will be in the same year as her cousin, Shahzadah, and if she could look out for her because she is 'a real spitfire' and 'not afraid to say what she thinks.' Upon hearing these words a cold chill slivers down her spine, "What?"

Zheela smiles back unconcerned, "What?"

Musfira want to hug Zheela close so that they might never take Zheela from her. But instead the fire burning behind her eyes rages and she speaks in a serious voice, "To the central square. Bring your family and anyone else you can find. If they have a position in a clan all the best. All member of the four main clans. This needs to happen right now."

Zheela is startled by this strange demand in a strange tone but see the seriousness in Musfira's experssion and runs along. She is pooling shared magic to her feet using it to enhance her running. As Zheela runs she gives off the vibe with her magic that is one of panic and fear, similar to one found when attacked. Warriors and those sensitive to magic turn the heads in her direction to see the danger, "Central square," is all she says and she repeats it again and again until she crashes into her cousin only able to say that.

Ihaia wraps his arm around her, "Shall we go there?"

She knows if she doesn't say anything that she can't fix whatever is wrong, "Everyone there now, especially clan heads." Ihaia's dad, Kaiqubad , who is the king of casually and relaxed posture, straightens and becomes aware instantly. He summons his dogs and sends them off to find all the clan heads on the island and make sure it will be done. Zheela hadn't thought of summons but she doesn't have any anyways because she didn't chose magic types, because Musfira had asked, had asked her not to-

She is hyperventilating went she comes to, in Kaiqubad's arms and they race towards the central square. She has only lost about a minute but she must get a hold of herself. When they arrive there are all twelve clans being represented and only the clan head of the four clans designated this island and three more. 

Musfira is in the center next to the fountain on the platform that is there all year round. She stands tall towering over everyone but there is still that look in her eyes. Zheela has never seen a Mehrzah serious, only respectful, and she doesn't think she ever did. Their eyes met across the square and Musfira makes a sign as if to touch her right shoulder. Zheela, standing on shaky knees, pulls a scroll that Musfira have her at beginning, just when Musfira had chosen her magics. She opens it and in a pull of magic she is next to Musfira on the platform and see her sibling climbing the step up too. Her Varzhang cousins are also there expect for Shahzadah.

"What is the meaning of this?" Cries a voice from below.

Musfira doesn't show any signs of being nervous or stressed but Zheela is her best friend and close enough to see Musfira's hands slightly shake. "I am here for a demonstration, so that no one can wonder or bring into question what is about to happen. For in front of me stands a representative of every clan."  
She then pulls a scroll with a seal drawn on it in ink. That isn't just the biggest, most complicated seal Zheela has ever seen but 15 times larger than any she has ever seen. It's about 5 meters long and a half wide. 

Musfira then approaches Zheela and carefully wraps her body with it. Whispering so that only those on the platform might hear, "I'm doing this to save your live." And she looks at Zheela with her large chocolate brown eyes and in that instant Zheela knows. That this is why she couldn't pick a magic, this is why Shahzadah couldn't be mouthy. There clan was being targeted and whilst the parents, the clan heads, could handle themselves, the children weren't only easily targets but valuable ones. Zheela nods and slashes her palm. Musfira careful uses a paintbrush to draw the finally seals both on the scroll and on Zheela's body in her own blood.

The sealing magic becomes active and its unlucky anything Zheela has experienced. Such precise magic, infused with the enormous time it existed, feels like dunking in cold water to Zheela's senses. The writing, both blood and ink, move and twist like clouds in the sky completely unbound from the paper. They swirl and disappear all into her solar plexus. And then it is quite. Zheela doesn't understand at first and then it becomes clear like a great giant chasm opening before her. Her magic! Her magic is gone!

“Destiny, Fate, Dreams-These unstoppable ideals are held deep in the heart of people. As long as there are people who seek freedom in this life, these things shall not vanish for the earth”-Gold Roger


	13. Chapter 13

Zheela is running her hands along her septum as if she might feel her magic, right next to her soul where it belongs. Her thoughts don't turn to rage or hate. She doesn't resent Musfira because she doesn't know the full story. All she feels a great empty hollowness. It doesn't come from the magic, she physical doesn't feel any different, its just that went she wishes to fill her body with magic, flow it out of her hands there is nothing, her senses are limited and pathetic unable to sense Musfira's magic presence a few inches from her. 

Her breathes are short and shallow again. 'Get a grip!' She screams in her mind. 'This isn't the end of the world. Musfira just saved your life. This is how it use to be when you were young and this is how it is for civilians.' 

The people in the crowd below seem just as shocked. Words and statement of confusion are shouted out. But the one Zheela hears is, "Her magic is gone! I can't feel. She like some civilian." Imagine that, the eldest of the Varzhang children, one of the four head clans of the archipelago, daughter of Arash the most powerful warrior of the Varzhang in at least the last 200 years, 'some civilian'. 

Musfira is standing strong, unphased by this radical, unprecedented, laws of magic defying, act, because of course not, it had happened as she had hoped. Instead she talks loud and projecting well over the chatter of the unrest. "Yes, that right. I gave up my choice in magics to chose sealing magics to perform this one task. And I am willing to do it to all of them," She gestures of the Varzhang children behind her. They aren't Zheela and won't just blindly follow and trust. Never the less she presses on, "I would strip them all of their magic, reducing them the same as animals, beings with only souls, if it would means peace. If would mean that they can live free of all suppression and stop being treated like prisoners of war. That if their parents are guilt of something it be proven and tried in a court and that the children not be punished. I ask of you to stop, to call off the attack, to leave my friends alone." As she starts talking her eyes roam the crowd from person to person but as it winds down, she is staring straight into the eyes of the head of the Hakopa clan. 

The four subservient clans of the Hakopa, who are also in charge of running this island, are shifty on their feet and sharing glances with each other and their leading clan. The head of clan admits nothing and his face betrays nothing. They aren't knowing for being cold and unfeeling because they wear their heart on their sleeves that's for sure.

Cries arise from the crowd again but this time not so much in horror but in outrage. "You would have done what?! To innocent children?!" This cry is the loudest if not the most outraged, for a member of the Abubakar clan, one of the four major clans, famous for their hospitality and warmth.

"You would have dashed all we stood for by using sneaky dishonest tactics to fight a 'perceived threat'?!" Zheela didn't know that Musfira's dad, Giv, had it in him to say the words 'perceived threat' in such a sarcastic judgy way. 

"They would have thought to protect everyone else, all the other 'innocent children' on the islands," Its a Nahas with their cold logic, its little wonder that Alima's family life is so terrible. And to think that this clan is a subservient of the Abubakar. Yet the member's tone isn't critial or in favor one way or any other just harsh logic of explaining and understanding both sides.

"That's why we have the justice. The courts are in charge of protecting citizens and dealing with criminals or any that would see harm befall our people. Since when can a clan or even a head clan and its subservients take matters into their own hands?" Clan after clan is ripping all the Hakopa's excuses into shreds leaving Musfira and Zheela to sigh into each other's shoulders. 

Musfira didn't know, she didn't know that exposing the problem like this would solve it. She thought that it was on the down low so that the Varzhangs would act naturally and not as though they were under suspicion. She thought all the clans of the country she loved, the clans of each her and almost all her friends where members of had sat down and agreed that the systematic murder of innocent. Musfira is so relieved she might cry. Zheela's eyes though were wet so may be that's okay.

A magical presence appears coming fast from the south, the warriors all turn to look in that direction and quickly catching on the civilians do likewise. Zheela is horrified to fall into the latter category. Some of them prime their magic, some of them recognize the magical presence as belong to an island clan and some of them prime their magic because of this. It would be terrible how this incident is destroying the trust between clans if it wasn't for the fact that massacring innocents was worse.

It's Illivat Umiaktorvik, the best, kindest teacher at the academy and in his arms he carries the damaged bloody body of Shahzadah. Those that can feel magic can sense her magic flowing out of her like a dead woman, or in this case some one very close to death. "I was looking for Labeeba or any healer but I was told that all those of power and magic were here. Please, something went terribly wrong, I was very concerned the healers accidentally did this to her might make it worse."

Labeeba, Musfira's mother, is a medical, herbal healer, she normally doesn't get patients with open wounds as they can heal fastest and quickest with magically treatment. He thinks this an accident and would fear making the wounds worse with magic, but as this is no accident it can and should be healed with magic. So whilst Labeeba does step forward, magical healers push past her and beginning work right away. Kaiqubad explains the situation to the distressed teacher who goes from worrying about his student to fury and rage.

"I had promised her no more hatred of what she is and all that has happened is she went from the frying pan to the fire," Zheela has never seen the teacher so nervous, his ponytail is coming loose and tendrils float about his face. 

The medics step back from their patient, however the magic is still flowing out of her, like she is still dying. "Is she going to be alright?" Zheela asks, all her sibling and she ran run down the platform to surround Shahzadah. Her brother Noushzad, grabs her shoulder and turns her around until her head is pressed into the crook of his neck. "I'm so sorry," is all he says and the water eyes Zheela had at her lost of magic, the threat on her life and clan, are now streaming tears like monsoon rains. 

Illivat is still confused. "I don't understand. Why did they target Shahzadah like this? Should they have staged an accident if the Hakopa's clans didn't want anyone to know?"

"Targeting her in the her surgery is actually not convoluted. If they had messed a tiny little thing and it killed her, they could have claimed accident and it wouldn't have been suspicious," Zheela sobs through her tears. "They must have messed up something." 

The opens on Shahzadah are closed thanks to the healers but they can't fix all the damage that must be on her insides. Now there is only blood left to show the turmoil that must still be inside. And the patches of blood on her clothing is extensive from where her hip bones torn through her skin. It's best that Shahzadah is still unconscious. "I'm not sure that they would have," Musfira rummaging through her shoulder pack, books and scrolls scattered around her on the floor. 

"What you think this was some twisted message of what could happen is we didn't obey?" Zheela starts her question sneeringly but is quite towards the end. 

"I can't be certain, it's also possible that they were going to create disease within her body but that magic type and that magic type would be easily recognizable. Had they started with that plan and thought her alone during the surgery only to quickly change plans once they realized IIivat was there," Musfira has finally found what she is looking for. It is a scroll with lots of information between summoning or conjuring seals. She unrolled a blank scroll and got to work. 

Zheela had never witnessed someone use magical enhancement to speed up the movement of their hands. If one where to do that they normally couldn't write at that speed or do anything but hit, no complicated motions like buttoning or tying. To have such fine motor control and magical control for someone that hadn't started the academy was unprecedented but not overly surprising of the girl that created a magic removing seal. Soon a seal was appearing from Musfira's fine brush strokes. 

As she works, she stops constantly to double check her work both in context and execution because every stroke must be perfect but also she is creating a seal and it must work. All the moving parts coming together to do as she wishes. Once when stopping she looks up at the Varzhang children, it has never been clearer that they are all children, the oldest only 12. "If I do this, it might kill her."

"And if you don't do this she will die regardless," Noushzad replies, a true Varzhang all sharp and prickly in personality. But Musfira wouldn't do anything in the world to change Zheela's kind, respectful attitude and she is sure that somewhere there is or will be someone that loves Shahzadah that much. 

Musfira wraps the scrolls around Shahzadah, Illivat holding her body up so that Musfira can wrap with the necessary care the seal around Shahzadah's chest. The skin there is ripped to shreds from the development of 'breast tissue' expect for the thin layer of magic holding the skin together. Musfira then draws seals directly on Shahzadah's skin with blood. 

"I'm going to need someone to push their magic into this," Musfira says creating a containing seal on a spare scroll. 

Illivat does takes it from her hands and does it instantly but still questions the order, "Why can't you do it yourself?" 

"Later," Musfira says carefully moving her fingertips over the scroll. As her fingers charged with seal magic pass over the ink the magic starts to bleed out and wrap around Musfira like some kind of glove. This way when Musfira touches the main seal drawn on Shahzadah's stomach and the magic reacts like a flambe and flames. The whole seal lights up and the ink slides and unwinds very quickly disappearing in Shahzadah's skin, who wakes with a start.

"What? Did something go wrong?" Shahzadah asks in a state of panic, her hand running up and down her throat. Musfira's not sure is its to see that the surgery was successful or if it is because of some lingering pain when her throat was choke on her own blood, both from her damaged abdominal organs and from her larynx. 

"You're fine. The surgery wasn't messed with, however after it was performed some people tried to kill you," Musfira is faced with Shahzadah's dark blue, almost purple watering eyes but continues with the bad news, "They were after you because you were a Varzhang and you were mouthy. They wanted to set an example. I didn't know until today that not all the other clans were on it. I don't even think all the subservient clan's of Hakopa were."

"But I'm fine right, I'm how I was suppose to be?" Shahzadah asks her concern over her clan minimal compare to concern over herself. Which is not completely unfair for when her father and mother found out their little boy was really a girl, it crushed their dreams of having an heir. On the archipelago there are equally clans that have heir to the first born, to the eldest son, to the niece, to those that want it and work hard for it. The Varzhang have been very inclined to primogeniture since the beginning of their history. And rather than having another child or passing on the head title to a Varzhang cousin they disinherit one of their daughters. 

But Shahzadah is full of life and laughter and instead of living on the streets she went to go live with her cousins Zheela, Noushzad and Darab and decided to get a wage by signing up to become a warrior. Musfira kisses Shahzadah on the forehead, "Of course. As soon as you heal you should be just fine physically."

"Physically?" Many people ask including Zheela and Shahzadah. 

Musfira is almost frowning, a wrinkle between her bushy eyebrows. "Well, yes physically. That I could heal... But only because I've been studying and creating so intently sealing magic. I knew that you were fine physically because the healers had come before but they could still feel your magic slipping away. And that was it. The only problem was your magic was leaving your body. Your soul was fine, healthy and rooted in you. So I did what I did to your cousin, bound the magic to your body so it couldn't leave. That doesn't make you immortal by any stretch of the imagination, your soul can still leave and that will kill you but as things stand, your life is no longer in danger."

Shahzadah's smile is lovely but it quickly turns to a grimace. "My cousin?" She is looking from face to face to see if any of them are injured and reaches out with her magic sense -

"What." It's not a question Shahzadah says it in such a dead tone. Zheela kneels by her cousin's side to explain what just happened.

What just happened was that despite the shocking horror of the situation her family's lives had been targeted and whilst they all still lived two of them now had no magic, in that it was sealed in their bodies where they couldn't use it. 

It wasn't that simple of course. Musfira too had lost her magic by performing the seal, but none of them had really lost their magics, that's why she was still able to perform the seal on Shahzadah. They just couldn't access their magic. Musfira, being the tricky clever girl that she was, had used Illivat's general magic and simply converted it by pressing it against her own sealing magic through her skin against it. 

Their magic still existed like it did in civilians but they could no longer touch it, feel it, or control it. Not yet anyways, for with some help and another sneaky tactic of Musfira they can remotely chose their magics and as it sets in them it will return their sense back to her. And as the seal caster, Musfira will regain her mastered magics when those who were sealed reclaim their magics. 

It's quite a gamble and Musfira only knows it will work in theory, if her calculations or studies are incorrect then all the information she has spent years learning and understanding are completely useless to her. 

Yet they aren't. Her books didn't lie, her calculations were spot on. For the first seal she blocked her magic to also block someone else's and the balance was perfect so like a complicated knot it can all be undone with the careful pull of a string. The second seal was identical, placing another block on Musfira's magic. The remotely choosing their magics was complicated and hard, leaving them with fewer options. The block on their magic left them with only the choice of one branch of magic, an unbalanced dangerous magic types to have, but it was better than nothing and so Zheela chose mind arts and Shahzadah fire. 

Zheela had chosen, like her dearest friend Musfira, to pick three magics from a branch that was normally considered non-combative and unusable on the battlefield but with having made all her choices be three types of mind magics, cleverness and a dash of determination, she was able to be as unique, talented and extraordinary as Musfira. 

Shahzadah was able to continue being a mouthy opinionated person free from any more threats and grew up to be a beautiful lovely woman that she was always suppose to be. 

“The greatest adventure is what lies ahead. Today and tomorrow are yet to be said. The chances, the changes are all yours to make. The mold of your life is in your hands to break.” -The Greatest Adventure


	14. Chapter 14

So when Musfira looks at the remaining member of team 371, team 406 and 852 with that fire burning in her eyes from passion, Zheela knows that they will save Alima. Musfira stood up and thought to defy all the clans to save her friend. And although years have passed and Musfira is not 7 and being told by a rusalka that must chose magics that will stop her from becoming a brave warrior like her father, or 9 and standing on a platform in front of all the clans telling them that slaughter is not the answer for she can bind and block her magic a dozen times to save all the Varzhang's lives; the determination and strength that the Mehrzad are famous is still strong in her. 

Now Musfira is 18 and knows that her magics can be used on the battlefield, knows that her greatest strength is not her knowledge but her team. And Alima is a member of team 371, daughter of the head of Nahas clan, best friend to many, loved by too few and doesn't deserve to die. 

"As I have sealed the magics inside of you, so too shall I do it to this creature."

"But then you can never get your magics back," Zheela worries but everyone knows that although a warriors life of righteous purpose is what Musfira has always wanted, they also know that living in more important. As Alima places her hands on the where the creatures cheeks should be if its face was not decomposed and only bone, and shadows start to wrap around the two of them. 

Although Musfira can't sense it, she is sure that the shadow magic is Alima trying to save them from this final site. Many things have changed in all the years that she has known Alima but it always does seem like Alima is giving and never receiving. When first faced with her new team mates Alima couldn't bare to try and understand how she could ever replace her dear and close friends until she got to know them. The girl who had been kicked out of her home because her family had rejected her on a fundamental level. The girl that was a some 1,500 km from home and all she had ever known and love, without a family in the middle of the ocean. What could bring people together more than solidarity? 

"Can you summon back your lance?" Is what Musfira asks Ihaia.

"I can vanish it and make it reappear in my hand," he tells her and she nods so he does just that. She only cares around the former. As vanishing the javelin makes a hole appear in the shadowy cocoon that surrounds the two. Through that tiny window she can see Alima throwing up her soul into the creatures mouth. Truly a scary sight and one Alima was right to hide from her follow warriors, but now is not the time. "Natsiq are you well enough to throw?" She gets a nod as Natsiq tries to sit up. "Then I need you to hit it in the chest."

"Without hitting Alima?" Natsiq asks both bewildered and sarcastic. It will be a terribly tricky shot because the shadows make it hard to see what the bodies underneath look like and because Alima is almost straddling the creature one foot under each of its armpit. Still Natsiq understands that time is of the essence and launches a powerful, heavy 'hammer' right into where the creatures solar plexus was. The hammer doesn't quiet travel with the speed that Natsiq can normally manage but as it is heavy the hammer still gets enough gravitational force to split the chest cavity wide open with a sick wet crush and pop. 

The inside of its chest is much like the outside rotten, decomposing and generally very gross. It's meat is all green and spoiled, the rancid smell even at their distance increases terribly. Rather than maggots, its own magic is writhing as though it is festering. A soul is there and all that see it know its Alima's for created magical creatures had no soul. The soul is squishing and reshaping itself stuck in the magics like some twisted lava lamp. The magics aren't beautiful like in the normally colorful mix of a human, but rather a dirty brown-grey color from so many different magics of all the branches. The wendigo is thrashing violently against its sand resistant ensuring it would go anywhere. Alima is frozen in place by her magic, still lingering in and around her dead body. The shadow and transforming magic she mixes in life to control and manipulate others bodies is now acting on her. 

The only movement is the soul squirming away from the magic, until Musfira runs forward. She has in her hands three scrolls with a single seal in each and an ink stone in her between her teeth. First seal, a magic sealing on Alima's body because even if Musfira can save Alima's soul, if she has no magic she will never be able to return to her body. 

The next seals are a compatible scroll and then four conversation seals, one for each magical branch. This way Alima's soul won't die from magics that aren't her chosen type, as the seal turns them from one type to another. She applies these five remaining seals around two of Alima's finger and two of the wendgio's at the same time. But her seals are just a little to strong. "Jenab! Drop the sand chains!"

"I can't they aren't held by my magic," Jenab yells back all panicked. 

Tauret steps up to the plate as leader now that she can kind knows that plan, or at least that there is a plan. "Sand's weakness is water and air. Natsiq and Ihaia team up! A snap mist now!"

"Yes, mama!" They shout back, making the gestures of power perfectly with each other and jumping down, running towards where the actually sand is. Two sharp, powerful implosions of magic around the restraints later the sand is free of it's magic and falls apart like magic-less sand does. 

Musfira is ready and can finally bring the wendigo's hands together to wraps them together with the scrolls. They glow but this has only bought her sometime, it hasn't actually fixed anything and Musfira has no idea how she gonna do that. Can anyone survive their soul leaving their body? Especially is they did lost their soul voluntarily? And then about the wendigo? If she takes out Alima's soul it will still be alive and all of this would have been a waste of time and potentially put people's lives in danger.

They are so unprepared to handle this but to be fair, its not a question of time or experience, there are very few warriors that can take down a created creature. Normally countries just escalated the violence by countering a created creature with another created one. Not even the 852's mentor, Nahuanya, had fought one and he was one of the top five best warriors of the island, although to be fair he had-

Musfira brain has just shatter with the revelation. She doesn't know if this will work but damn, she has just made a connect that if true would save Alima's live and stop the wendigo once and for all. "Yeah, yeah well maybe just maybe..." Musfira mumbles to herself taking out six blank scrolls. Zheela has seen Musfira's improvement through the years as her team mate but it is still very impressive. Everyone is in disbelief but no one more so that Ihaia that can't believe his dorky, younger cousin can do that.

To use enhanced speed for fine dexterity is unheard of and unique probably to Musfira, but actually see it and just how fast it is, is crazy. The inkstone in Musfira's mouth has become wet with her saliva allowing her to write but Ihaia imagine that tastes as good as it looks. Because Msufira must allow a build up of saliva to wet the stone she is drooling, but rather than normal gross-ish drool it is pitch black and thick like she's bleeding out shadow magic and looks creepy where the white of her teeth are shining through. 

They wait, Ihaia and Natsiq balancing from foot to foot, "Is there anything we can help you with?" Asks Tauret as Musfira writes seals that takes hours if you know them and weeks if your a novice, in a matter of minutes. Musfira shakes her head and the oozing ink dripping down her chin splatters dark against her green top. Now it looks like she's gotten it to a fight with a kraken. 

So the seals are done and Musfira takes the ink stone out of her mouth and wipes up her chin and mouth with her large pagoda sleeve. "I need one type of non-presence magic in each seal." Everyone crowds around, Tauret taking her wooden cradle down and taking charge.

"Alright Shahzadah; spirit. Jenab; essence. Musfira; time. Dehqan; force. Zheela; mind. Natsiq will take decay," They all set up in front of a scroll ready to pump them with one axis magic. "How much magic?"

"You'll know," And like Zheela did all those years ago. They trust the woman with the messy hair and passionate eyes. They push magic into the scroll and indeed they do know, these scrolls to say they were made in minutes are genius taking only a certain amount of magic before they stop absorbing and start reflecting. 

"So what's the plan?" Shahzadah asks trying not to sound to worked or unsure of Musfira's abilities. 

Musfira doesn't blame Shahzadah, as she herself didn't know how she was going to do this, and whilst she now has a plan it is unclear is it will work. "The plan is to bind together raw magic."

"That..." Zheela questions trying to say respectful.

"That sounds an awful lot like a non-corporeal creature," Ihaia says in the deadest of tones.

"Yes, that's because that's what I'm creating," Musfira states refusing to back down but also refusing to turn around and look at them. For whilst created magical creatures are the second most dangerous type of magical creatures in the world, non-corporeal creatures, also called ragers, are the most. When a soul is destroyed magic takes its place allow created creatures to have more than three magics. However if the body is destroyed to make more room for the magic, the soul is expelled from the being unable to survive without a body, this being of pure raw bond magic becomes a rager. "By destroying the wendigo's body but keeping its magic together, Alima's soul will be expelled and return to her body."

Everyone wanted to say something to that but she continued interrupting them before they even could start. "However this won't create a rager, because ragers are made from humans, not creatures. All this will do is expand the magic types before they dissipate." 

"But what about the magical backlash?" Natsiq asked remembering Alima's dire warning. "Even without a body, the air could only absorb so much of the magic."

Musfira paused in what she was doing, "Damn it, I didn't think of that."

Zheela gave an empty laugh, "That's what team mates are for, to help you. But how can we help you?"

"No, no its fine. I haven't thought of it but I can still do this," Musfira assured them placing the necessary binding seals between the scrolls of non-presence magic. "I had gotten this idea from thinking of Nahuanya." Nahuanya was the mentor of group 852 but also the one of the best warriors of his generation, easily in the top five. When he was little his parents had died and sacrificed themselves to save island, as they lay dying they used their last strength to bind their magics to their newborn son. Rather than letting the magic dissipate once their souls left they funneled it into him. 

It was this idea of funneling magic from a dying, dissipating source into someone else that Musfira was now gonna use. Her previous brilliant thought brought on by her mentor was that whilst he had never fought a created creature he had been there for a rager, when if only a babe. 

"Channeling magics into her? But wouldn't that be to many types?" Ihaia asks still very concerned for his girlfriend. 

"Yes of course it will be dangerous, what part of this hasn't been? But it will be fine. Nahuanya had five different types channeled into him and then he grew up to have three like everyone else," Musfira doesn't care much for her cousin's questions. They are founded but right now this is all they have. If it doesn't work it would be terrible to lose such a close and dear friend but nagging her whilst she is trying to work wouldn't change the fact she doesn't know. She's just shooting in the dark and hoping for the best. 

"But she already full developed with chosen magics, what if-" Ihaia borderline frantic sentence is cut of by Musfira activating her seals. There are the four seals around both the Wendigo's hands and Alima's, one for each branch of presence magic; around little and ring fingers, middle and index, and both thumbs. Of the six scrolls of non-presence magic three go on Alima, arm, arm, torso, and other three go on the wendigo in the same places. Six binding scrolls go between the non-presence scroll, forming a paper loop. As the seals become activate and follow with magic, they tighten and twist, wrapping themselves around the woman and creature. They twist fast and faster until the ink blurs in their vision and the only why they can now it's working is from the magic in the wendigo's chest. 

The magic use to be a ugly taupe color that was festering in and around Alima's soul but now it is expanding exceptionally in every direction. The magic turns two colors, the pink-red of fresh flesh, and the spotted grey of a leatherback turtle. It is slithering down into the wendigo's bowels, glowing through the skin. Blood spurts and spews out the hole in its flesh as the magic crawls into its arms through its arteries. It lights its head up and sears white bone of its skull black and the bakes the blood until it flakes off. Where its jaw is broken from Ihaia's spear, the magic pours out. Some of the magic of course grows outwards of its broken chest cavity, over Alima's soul and onto its blood matted fur. 

Alima's soul seems first crushed by the weight, seeming to disappear under the vibrant, bright glowing color until it pops through like a cork in the waves, it doesn't stop their though being yanked into Alima's chest like iron to a magnet. Alima starts to cough and squeeze unable to comprehend what just happened looking around. She falls to her knees before Ihaia catches and stops her from splay on the floor. "What-" she starts before the magic starts flowing into her. 

The wenidgo, who's body had been reduced to stray chunks of rotten green meat and filthy, matted fur only a few charred bones remaining, is now gone. Without a body the magic would dissipate and then reform from its bound magics but instead as it dissipate it reforms in Alima. She screams and hollers as the magic comes choking her down her throat. Her sounds are then muffed but no less present and her chest cavity starts to glow even under her shirt. It oozes and pushes and shoves as Alima struggles to draw breath. She is so overwhelmed that she can't keep her eyes open or keep herself up and it just keeps coming more and more until it feels like its not just her throat but also in her trachea and pushing through to her esophagus. 

Ihaia would be cradling her head on his lap if he wasn't pulled back by his very concerned team mates. "I know you love her but this might not work and end up killing all of us we must leave her," Tauret is pleading with him pulling him away as they leave the campsite. 

"But... but..." Ihaia retorts pathetically. 

"Don't argue for the sake of arguing. You know this is what she would want," Tauret continues as they use enhanced speed to get away until they cross the river. They stop on the other side of the river, the Highlander side of the border. Ihaia is making this face of great lose and terrible sorrow even though Alima might live.

'Why are we still in the blast radius?' Dehqan signs to Shahzadah, would was the one to stop the group. 

"Because if we leave then we wouldn't be able to help her if she needs it. But here we are near enough to the edge of the radius that would spirit out if it came to that," Shahzadah said crossing her arms and look at the horizon back to the campsite of the Westmerens. 

Tauret looks down and then looks at the 371 campsite and looks down again, "What." She asks almost rhetorically before repeating herself, "What? No we couldn't. That spirit vs the speed at which a magical backlash would be would not take us out of here. Maybe for you and the speedster," Tauret says placing a hand on Jenab's racing wheel chair, "But not for us mere mortals."

Shahzadah would normally get flustered and blush but with the seriousness of Alima's fate heavy on their shoulders she just apologizes and moves them closer to the edge of the 'blast' radius. 

Ihaia's sense aren't as controlled and precise as Tauret, the scouting member of the team, who's job it normally was to sense presence but he is giving it his best to try and feel exactly what is happening to Alima. "What about my summons?" Ihaia asks. 

"Jahan Ara?" Zheela ponders, unuse to Ihaia's summon as she was an oddity. An oddity in that he only had one. Even if a warrior only summoned from one species, which was in itself very rare and unique to him on any of the three teams, they could at least summon more than one. Like the Highlanders that could only summon giant spiders but there was no reason they could summon 5 or 15. Ihaia could only summon one. A unique trait for someone from the archipelago and rarely generally. His borderline wolf-dog, Jahan Ara, had been named after two fallen warriors, Jahan an original member of team 371, and Ara, a fallen warrior from Kaiqubad's team. Kaiqubad, Ihaia's dad, had like Alima lost both of this team mates but he had also lost his mentor and never formed a new one. 

"I think that's a great idea. Yes, summon her," Tauret says nodding at the clever idea. Jahan Ara is physically a giant Alaskan Malamute-German Shepard, roughly the height of a horse, but mentally she was almost as smart as a human with the complied souls of Jahan and Ara. They weren't named after dead people arbitrarily. Ara's soul lingered being of her connect with the Hasti family and the nature of her dead, unable to do anything with a body or magic but observe. When Jahan died, her soul leaving her body, it should have dissipated back into the cycle of life but itself her body was swarmed filling her with the magic of a created creature improperly killed. With a body to claims as its own Alima giving crushed it with brutally raw magical strength, the creature took the freshly empty one that still lingered with magics as its own.

The monster that then became Jahan's body was the reason her soul couldn't pass one, anchored to this world by her own magic flowing through her body but controlled by another. Circumstances had left Jahan's soul to linger with Jenab for her whole life. Until Jahan meet Ara as a spirit, only a soul, that was bound to the Hasti, passing from Kaiqubad to Ihaia. They then came together to try and contact the living that might help them from this powerless torment. 

It had been Musfira, brave, full of hope, ingenuity and determination, that had contacted the magical creatures that ruled over death. And since the Hasti family magic summon had been dogs, the creatures lead them to the longest mountain range on the archipelago and there team 406 found a dead wolf-dog that was huge, much larger than even a pure wolf. It had been a mix of a born magical creature and a dog, so it had magic still lingering in it freshly dead body. With great care and caution what remained of both the women's soul was poured into the wolf body and became a complete blend of Jahan, Ara and wolf. 

Unlike any magical summons Jahan Ara was very special being part magical creature and part human. This meant that she could go into the campsite and should the magic explode Jahan Ara would simply vanish in a pop. She wasn't like other summons that could be killed. That's what made her perfect for this feat. So with a 'And from the ground to anima, make free of gravity the psionic of metal,' Jahan Ara appeared.

Shahzadah and Jenab both backed up, the animal was just so big that seeing her every time was surprising. The only time they saw her off the battle field she was lying down as a fury roll pillow for Ihaia to rest on. Team 406 of course was use to her and team 852 had Dehqan who's summons were all giant animals from bears to buffaloes. "Go to that camp over there. Take care of Alima for me please."

“The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved – loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves.” - Victor Hugo


	15. Chapter 15

Jahan Ara walks over the tied up, restrained bodies of the empties, her pack is still only pups playing at being all grown up. They refuse to kill and leave them to die. Odd logic but very fitting. Create a magical creature and now it shall be what kills you. 

She finds the wendigo and Alima quickly. Even though summons have very limited ability to sense magical presence, Jahan Ara is part human and the creature magic is strong and heavy. Almost too heavy clouding her magical senses but she still has her nose and Alima smells herself, sweaty, smoky and sadness. 

Jahan Ara noses at Alima's body collapsed next to what remains of the wendigo, clutching her chest and throat. Her body rolls over, her eyes are barely shut and fluttering whilst her chest is rising steadily as she breaths. Jahan Ara tries to remove Alima's hands by pushing them aside with her nose or paws but its not workings. So a simpler tactic is use, Jahan Ara licking the warrior's face, mouth and nose as the unconscious body shy away her eyebrows crinkling and mouth opening. Jahan Ara then sticks her nose in Alima's mouth forcing it too open and then puffs air in.

Alima awakes sputtering out a doggy nose and fur. "What?" Her voice is hoarse from the screaming in agony that accompanied the magic following into her. She also seems confused, unaware of her surrounds and how she got here. She doesn't know Jahan Ara though and clings onto her fur for her mind might not remember to shield herself from the truth, the terrible horror of it all. 

Jahan Ara makes shushing noising. "You're going to be alright child. Your magic is different can you feel it."

"It feels so weird," Alima says resting a hand over her chest, running along it. "Like I've been stuffed full and it might just burst me at the seams."

The summon nods and waits until Alima stops filling her own chest like there might be some great crater where her soul once was. "When you feel ready, try and use your magic."

"When I feel ready?" Alima asks lifting her body and lying on Jahan Ara' flank. She looks at what remains of the wendigo's body, a few charred bones, flesh and fur. Alima is a clever child, a Nahas a clan renown for its intelligence, battle strategies and deductions. "Won't this hurt you?" A pause. "And them?"

Alima is not referring to the general them of the prisoners of war that are littering the campsite, but to the specific them that are her team mates and beloved friends. For whilst they are on the edge of the blast radius that seems that as the center of the blast radius she can feel them. Jahan Ara shakes her head and Alima near slips off of where she is clinging the fur, "No child. I will be fine. I automatically vanish, no one need vanish me, I'm harder to kill than that. And they are at just the distance to run out of harms way."

Alima nods, her head tucked between Jahan Ara' shoulder blades so the wolf can feel the unspoken agreement. Her magic, which is normally like a cup of water that she drinks to make flow and fill her body, is now a rapid torrent of a river that will sweep Alima up if she is not well grounded. It made her think of a Hokroni saying; 'If we stem from a root planted in the belief that we can do it, we shall.' 

So she waded, in her mind-scape to the middle of the roaring river and dug her feet it. The riverbed was not sand what would suck up and hold on to what was pressed in it, no the riverbed was rocks that were unmoving, hard and painful to wedge one's feet up neath. Her eyes opened and with great care she made the gestures at the same times as she said the words like some new academy student that could barely just access their core but not understand or control it. "To shadow from ground, without energy or anima eliminate decay." A body displacement technique that didn't use any displacement or force magic to move someone. As a result the person only moved a dozen centimeter but in this case it allowed Alima to go from resting on Jahan Ara' withers to sit astride her like she was actually some kind of horse. A dangerous, carnivorous, deadly horse. 

Her magic that seemed like an uncontrollable current is now just a babbling stream. The 'water', her magic, doesn't threat to sweep her away but rather parts for her. "I think I'm fine."

Jahan Ara looks at her, ruffing her spiky brown hair in its low ponytail and everywhere her skin is showing. Alima is showing less skin that Shahzadah but otherwise she is showing a lot of skin. A purple tank top with an off the shoulder crop top, a skort, boots that just below her knee and gloves. All along her arms, shoulders, legs and neck Jahan Ara sniffs carefully. Alima knows this is because as part animal, Jahan Ara can't sense magical presences well and Alima can only imagine how hard and overwhelming her own magic feels if it is as large, imposing or as grating as the wendigo's.

"Your magic is almost internal now," Jahan Ara finally says. "Before is seemed to swarm around you as if leaking out but being brought back by the Musfira's seal. Now it doesn't lash out and block or grate on my senses. It is not small, it still feels very much huge and unhuman, but it doesn't feel crazy or out of control."

"Like a born magical creature?"

Jahan Ara uses a hind paw to scratch at her ear, she remains standing to do this but it still makes Alima shift and slide from where she sits on Jahan Ara's back, "Maybe. Wouldn't know, now would I?"

Alima twinges with guilt, if Jahan's life hadn't ended so shortly she could have had all the normal experiences of a normal life. "Hey now, none of that," Jahan Ara says feeling Alima tense and shakes her about to snap her out of it. "What I meant was that most people never meet magical creatures. You and the three teams are the exceptions. Normally only the leader of the archipelago meets them should there be times of war."

"Yes, well. Now that my magic might have settled I need to send them a message. My team mates need to call for peace talks," Alima says shifting about, clutching the fur between her hands. 

"I can deliver a message but what makes you think a call for peace talks will work?" Jahan Ara questions uncertainly.

"Because of what we just did. I know that because of the three way soul, your emotions are very mute but do you understand what a big deal this is?" Alima says gesturing to her chest where her new magic resides.

"No." Jahan Ara isn't considered by the idea that she doesn't know. It simple is. Alima is unsure if this blase attitude comes from what Jahan Ara is, a mixture of souls and a magical creature body or if its a result of everything that has happened to here that caused her to shut down emotion to save the pain and suffering. 

"This peace talks will work because children have stopped a created magical creature. Because rather than it killing us or hurting us, it made us stronger."

"You don't know that. This amount of magic could hurt you. This seal could break and release," Jahan Ara isn't convinced but Alima is.

Peace will come, it is as inevitable as war, "Musfira's seals do not break. She is unparalleled in her knowledge and understanding. This amount of magic might hurt me but I have no intentions of using it on the mainland and as long as I don't use it I'll be fine, it's now stable."

"But-" Alima wraps a hand around Jahan Ara's snout to stop her.

"But nothing, they aren't like you and can sense my magic. They will be able to tell that I am all powerful, filled with not just more magic but more magics. Like Nahuanya before me I will be a great wonder of the hidden archipelago and no main lander need ever know if it turns out I can't control my magic," Alima waits to see if Jahan Ara will say anything, petting her around her mouth.

Jahan Ara doesn't. She understand that the secrecy that protects the archipelago will protect its own again. No one knows what the islanders are truly capable of. All the mainlanders know is that they have never instigated a war and have won all battles against their island. For the longest of times mainlanders knew nothing of them at all, all questions left unanswer, all that they were allowed was to trade with them one a single island. In a thousand years this term has not changed, no outsider on any other island unless they wish to become a citizen in which case the could never leave. Few did this, generally only the spouse of warriors that had fought on the mainland like Ihaia's or Musfira's mothers, who were sisters from the country of Draheps. 

Draheps and the Dimn Highlands were names that the archipelgoers had given to the strange people that had visited them. They didn't want to be asked questions so they didn't ask question either. So they gave names to people that already had names; the Dimn Highlands was the Jiangliang Empire, Draheps was Feqiph, Westmere was Rheisellen, Knyduns was Ar-Radir. But to be fair the main land also did the same, not having a name for the strange people that traded with them they called them the Kresicians from Kresic, what they had named the archipelago. 

This secrecy was huge, the biggest secret ever and it included everything. The mainlanders didn't know what the archipelgo looked like, how many islands, how big they were, all they knew was the trading island of Usihr. They knew the four main clans that made up the government and that there were 12 mains as well but not all their names, abilities or members. They didn't know that the clans had once been the four people of the four main islands, each of a slightly different variation of the islanders' race and that their names depended on the what race their mother was. 

It seemed that once again secrets would protect an islander. Jahan Ara conceded to Alima's sound strategy, a good Nahas despite what her mother might think, and set out to spread the message. 

The Highlanders were confused when they were told that a peace talk was to be called but then they felt Alima's magic, like the eye of a storm, or the calm before a storm perhaps, fury and unbelievable power carefully contained by 19 year old girl.

So they sent their freak, fast, giant spiders with message to call the council of 13 and leader of their 'clans,' that they called noble houses. They sent a message to the Westmerens, with soldiers that been bound and left helpless as they felt their wendigo fight and eventually die. As they then felt the magic become tame and quiet only to see it contained in a girl.

They had of course sent word back the archipelago by mermaid and the Highlanders had been completely baffled to met a magical creature, to think that one came just because some 18 year old girl had called one. Little did they know that was unique to Musfira and that she had that connection because they had given her a Hokroni flower when she was but a little girl.

Then they sent a message to Knyduns, Jenab's home country of sand and desert, that was south bordering Westmere and had been their allies at least on paper, they hadn't fought in the war that was only two weeks old. 

The teams even invite Draheps the country bordering Westmere and the Dimn Highlands to the west and asked them as the neutral party to supervise and maintain peace between the people.

In a five days, an answer had come from everyone. They would be there.

"The ultimate choice for all, in as much as we is given to transcend ourselves, is to create or destroy, to love or to hate."- Erich Fromm


	16. Chapter 16

When the teams had asked the Draheps for help they had hoped that they might send, 50 soliders, 20 warriors and some handful of diplomats but instead they had sent a 'thorn in their side,' that was group of 12 warriors they hoped would die in any conflict that might occur. 

'I was not aware that women weren't allowed to become warriors in your country,' Dehqan signs bewildered. 

"And you are mute but still are a warrior." One of the girls, Farha, says smiling patting his arms. Zheela is acting as translator sitting across from Dehqan and next to the girl. 

"Didn't you know Etel?" Musfira says using his nickname affectionately, she's coming back to sit down next to him with a plate of food, "That why my mother came the island."

Dehqan blinks and pauses for a moment before replying, 'No I did not know that. But I thought your mother wasn't a warrior.' He is very confused and she giggles and ruffles his crazy hair. It is an odd color, not unheard of but most people get grey hair in their late age not have white hair since birth apparently is its hereditary as his father had it before him. 

"She isn't," Musfira says casually and the frown line on Dehqan's forehead worsen. "But she didn't want to live in a country where women are told what to do and what not to do. She didn't technically have any problems but she didn't like the idea that some women in her country were oppressed. What if some day that would be her, or her children?"

Farha sighs in her seat, "Oh that's so romantic." Everyone else around the fire is kind of horrified. Was the idea of wanting freedom and respect on one's rights as a human... romantic?

Musfira decides to continue to Dehqan the story, "And so my mother wandered from country to country and in Knyduns," Farha makes a confused, screwed up expression before Musfira corrects her wording, "Ar-Radir see met a envoy from the archipelago- um, Kresic, and was taught the concept of Hokroni and so she decided to come back with them to their country. And it was there that she met my father," Musfira finally finished. The story of her mother was not romantic, she had done this because she felt it right not because her father was *argh* *shutter*.. alluring. 

"Oh that's just so romantic," Farha continues and Musfira wonders if she was heard. "Being all alone in a new country, not knowing anyone or even knowing if you've made the right decision and meeting the love of your live, the father of your future unborn children."

Alima and Ihaia would have also returned with plates of food and one of the Draheps girls, both looking so horrified that their expression makes all those that can see it laugh. Alima flushes and stomps to sit next to Musfira, Ihaia trailed behind her. 

The girls with them are Bunga and Cik. Bunga is very nosy and outspoken. "That seems like a nice story but we must stay in Draheps. We can't just leave our country, we love it and its ways. We would rather stay and fight for are rights in the hope to change them for the better."

"That does seem more doable when there are at least twelve of you from different family," Ihaia says munching on a raw pepper. 

"There aren't quite twelve families," Cik says flipping the page in her book. Apparently she never puts it down unless there is battle and keeps walking into things unless someone is guiding her. "Two pairs of twin and triplets." 

Dehqan shakes his head, that's just seems so baffling to an only child, 'Are twin and triplets common for your people or is it just them and Musfira's family?'

Musfira places a hand on her hip, "That's like saying just because you meet me and Ihaia that Feqiph's only almost only ever have sons. It's ridiculous. It just so happens that the only multiple births you know are Feqiphian."

"Are there many sons in your families?" Bunga asks Ihaia. 

"I have only a brother but Musfira comes from a family of nine and out of the seven children there are only two girls, one pair of twins and triplets," He replies.

Cik thinks and scrunching her nose, "I see why you might think that. I have read about the isolation of Kresic and I see how the very limited amount of people you might met or read about effect your perspective. Like how in your three teams there is a total of 7 out of 9 females but I know that this is very much an oddity because I have met many of your warriors."

"Yes this is very odd but I don't think we would change it for anything," Tauret says flicking Ihaia's hat as she comes to eat. Most teams are two boys and one girl but these three teams are the expectations, the only expectation in the whole archipelago."

"Even before my team was like this, it was still like this," Alima chimes in but in a cheerful, kind tone. Not one that reprimands Tauret for saying that 'we wouldn't change anything.' Ever since nearly almost, technically being dead Alima is cheerful, kind, sanguine and even upbeat. There are a few theories about why this is circulating between the teams.

One theory says that Alima has become the opposite of everything the wendigo was, as if the magic that had turned a person so cruel and literally soulless enough to eat others flesh and magic was converted by Alima's soul and now has gone the other way.

Another theory is that the seal that contains the wendigo's magic in her body and is separating it from hurt her has also taken all the 'evilness' in her soul.

Or even that her suicidal thoughts were stopped by actually dying. Everyone, every single person that jumped of High Bridge, the bridge that connects two islands, in the intent to kill themselves but lived said that they regretted the jump in midair, not before but once they had jumped. Every single one of them. Maybe it's just a kind-of-person-that-jumps-off-bridges-to-kill-themselves thing but maybe its a more universal truth, that one wants it, to finally do it and once one has they regret it. 

But most likely it is the theory that with this much power she can command respect from her peers and possible even her family is what has gotten her is such a good mood. Her mother can no longer yell at her that she is a waste of space because she isn't and will never be a warrior as strong or intelligent as her father or brother. 

The idea that the last two theories are the most popular is rather horrifying but its also the truth of Alima and they love her because they know her, not the other way around. Team 371's mentor, Reda is on the borderline of almost knowing Alima because he loves her but that's not his fault so much as the nature of their relationship. Mentors are assigned groups 'against their will,' in that they are not consulted but groups are generally formed with children that they work well with and finishing the same year. 

This time before the fancy diplomats arrive is nice, not only does it give them time to set everything but it also allows them to decompress. Yes, the nearly all lost their lives. Yes, they did fight a created magical creature. But they survived, not by some miracle as though a god is watching over them, the islanders pray to no god, they survived because they are smart, insightful, creative, brave and have remarkable magical control and shared magic. 

Knyduns don't have shared magic and Draheps have very little that these warriors can't even access because their society see girls as useless expect in child birthing and rearing. Highlanders hadn't understood what was meant by magical control, claiming that when they had heard the term they fought it was inner magic mixing and even when explains said that they had nothing like that in their fighting. 

The Draheps didn't fight in team but rather traveled in packs and broken down to fight one vs one. The Highlanders had leaders and all those lower than them. Knyduns worked in large crew of 20-15 that were ill suited for fast, stealthy movement, all about patrol and being assign a single area for their whole lives. 

The Archipelagoers won't change their three student, mentor team for the world. They love them and how they fought. Although that did mean that the loss of a member was very poignant. Which was why they were taking advantage of their down time before everyone else showed up.

The reason that the Knydun girls had come so quickly was because they were just warriors about to pick and go, whilst the diplomats, rulers and other important, powerful people, had to travel in large, slow flashy parties. 

Alima thought it might take them longer to get her that the war lasted. 

"May times of peace spanned for lifetimes and the battles be quick and clean." ~ Hokroni blessing.

"For we pay a price for everything we get or take in this world; and although ambitions are well worth having, they are not to be cheaply won." -Lucy Maud Montgomery


	17. Chapter 17

Zheela has contemplated putting up a Hokroni saying or principle that condoned peace after seeing Shahzadah's new gloves. Zheela can only wonder what her little cousin did that was so mouthy that she need to be told off by caring the death of friends on her arms like some sort of willing shackles that aren't on wrists. 

Zheela is all for Hokroni but the idea that it is treasonous to be against it bothers her, she has nothing against it and nothing else she would rather support but the idea that her little cousin can't say or even think anything else... But maybe they are right. All though that have every thought something else have become murders, tyrants, and cruel. And of course on the other hand, although that have followed and truly believed in the code and principles with all their heart have done great acts. 

Even just the greatest act in Zheela's life time was the sealing of her own magic, a terrible feat that was done to protect her was done by one blessed and a deep follower of Hokroni. She doesn't approach Dehqan or Musfira with this proposal because the former is too wild and the latter too optimistic. There isn't anyone in team 371 that she thinks is a good idea either, Alima is cold despite this recent uplifting, Jenab is ironically either too much or too little of a foreign with no perspective to see if this is really a good idea for peace talks, and well needless to say Shahzadah is still outspoke but not in all the best ways.

This leaves team 406, this leave Tauret and Natsiq actually because Ihaia is too vain and prideful to be objective. Getting them alone is difficult but she does end up getting the two women but only almost alone. Dewi and Esah, horse summoning fraternal twins, are also there. 

"I was just thinking... About the piece talks," Zheela doesn't know how to say this and instead scuttles into this conversation like a side-ways crab. 

Natsiq puts down what she holding and makes this face. It is very much a Natsiq-face, as there is a Musfira-look which is determination and characteristic of her but not limited to her, there is a Natsiq-face which is perhaps not her most notable or prominent trait but it is the most important. When Musfira first saw it she said it was very familiar, when Alima first saw it she didn't recognize it. It the face of a mother, a woman that cares deeply and truly, like their heart is bottom-less and their love is all encompassing.

Zheela is slightly ashamed of her behavior as a grown, adult woman but she goes for a hug. Whenever filled with doubt or fear, Natsiq just seems so homely to Zheela that barely knew her own mother. "I was thinking about a joke Ihaia said, that we should put up banners and signs that say welcome. But I was thinking that perhaps we should put up Hokroni ideals. I don't want to sound imposing or do anything that might seem like brag and being boastful; just something so everyone remembers why they are here. For peace and all that it entails." 

Natsiq is hugging Zheela backwards, her chin on Zheela's shoulder and it is Tauret that puts a hand on Zheela's to stop them from wringing. "I think this is a great idea. I don't think you should be so concerned, with just true and pure intentions, I sure your best will be very good indeed."

Natsiq nods and pulls Zheela closer. Natsiq was warm as is to be expected of an islander with their fire shared magics, but Natsiq is also comfy which sounds kind of horrible and makes Zheela blush more. But its true! For all Natsiq kindness and compassion makes her emotionally nice but hugging her up close like this is as well. As a hammer thrower Natsiq doesn't need a stupidly ripped body like Alima, Natsiq is all dense, not cut or sculpted, all her muscles have some patting around them. Her core is her strongest, not her legs that are toned but not bulging, but that doesn't mean she has a six pack. Instead she is smooth and padded everywhere even with rolls in her back. 

She weights some 95kg and is 166 cm tall. There is nothing wrong with Natsiq, for she is a warrior just as competent as the rest no matter what the prejudiced is. Zheela won't rather be anywhere else though because for all their fight capacity it only Natsiq that can love in such a fulfilling way. "I agree with Tauret. If you already know and are aware of the problem and what it might be, you are in a perfect position to prevent any such thing from happening. I also think it is a great idea and I wish to help you with the choosing of quotes. Perhaps nothing that require context or what has magical creatures?"

Zheela smiles and wrinkles her eyes, Tauret just picks up her stuff and keeps on working. Tauret knows that she is a good team leader and warrior but she also knows that Natsiq can transform people much like Dehqan can. She has seen it. Dehqan summons, not literally or with magic, the animal basic instincts in people and can turn them into raging monsters or as relaxed as big cats in the sun. Tauret personally identifies best with him but she also understand why Zheela, who basically grew up without parents for how little time she had them, might prefer Natsiq.

"Oh, can we know about your code?"/"Is there anything we can do to help?" Dewi and Esah say at the same time. They looked confused by the group dynamics and have been since they arrived. The strong and unusually even for islanders relationship between team mates and teams is rather unique to just them, as they all become warriors and also knew each other as children because their parents were all friends. The stress of the situation with Alima has brought them even closer together and it is little surprise that this seems odd or even extreme to the Draheps girls.

Natsiq turns her warm, sunny smile on them and brings them in for bear hugs. When released the women look woozy and baffled. "Now you have better met Natsiq, I will go get a book of the true teachings from Musfira."

"Do you not all carry one with you?" Dewi questions in confusion.

"Well it's one less thing to worry about," Esah counters, she is the most disorganized person that Natsiq thinks she will ever meet and she has seen the room a teenage boy. 

"We don't have to carry them unless we want to. Most warriors find it both unnecessary and encumbering. One can travel with it if they wish but there is no rule about that," the way Natsiq emphasizes that has the Draheps girls leaning in. "The only rule about Hokroni is this," Natsiq taps her headband.

It is to keep the straight wild hair of hers from her serious face. Despite its natural roundness and her inherent kindness, her eyes are cold and serious and her cheekbones are prominent. "Mine is for my hair but Ihaia's in on his hat, Jenab's on her arm, Alima's on her glove, Shahzadah's on her belt, and so on. This is a symbol called the Hokroni flower, for it is a symbolic interpretation of a flower of Hokroni."

"Is Hokroni a place?" Dewi asks and Natsiq restates. Nothing could be more important that secrecy but on the flip side, these girls are other casts by their own people, who will they tell that will believe them and also spreading messages of peace, love and virtuous living is a very important aspect of Hokroni.

"No Hokroni was a type of magical creature. It is said she was a mermaid but she lived some thousand years ago. And it was that she could use an axis of non-presence magic that we as human mortals never could, matter magic," Tauret decides to push on with the story, uncaring that the village elders and clan heads have kept these secrets as if they weren't just myths based on some distorted history record. 

"Matter magic is a myth," the twin chorus at the same time.

"Ah, so you have heard of it. I have never met anyone that hasn't, be they islander or mainlander. For some truths transcendence time or space," Tauret doesn't buy herself what she's selling but it does make for a good story. "And upon meeting our ancestors and hearing their wise words. It is said that the first mami wata to talk to humans created with matter magic, the strangest flower ever and gave it to each of them. For as long as you and your descendants carry this my kind with protect and guide them until they are unworthy of the wonderful words spoken here today."

"That's why you follow the Hokroni code, it's what the mami wata would approve of and you fear that if you don't she will some how find out and punish you?" Esah questions itching her nose.

Natsiq smiles like they are uneducated children, full of kindness and warmth but little true respect. "No, nothing like that. That mami wata, is the myth is true and she exists has never been seen since. However there are hundred of mami watas in our waters, where we fish, by which the seems we trade and travel. And they remember the myth like we do. If we behave, they will protect us for natural disasters, invading enemies, even ourselves. But should we choose to be careless, disregarding or disrespectful, they could flood our islands and drown us all from our ships, they could lift the fog and help invaders. We do not behave because we fear some mystical unseen unreal power or being, but because as grown, rational adults we know that our actions have consequences."

This talking down from Natsiq is not new. She has give it to Shahzadah perhaps 20 times but this girls haven't ever met a mermaid, let alone the people of the island. They don't understand really what such determination, in such numbers would look like. Born magical creatures are not the end-all-be-all, they are great, powerful, and with more magics that humans but they are also creature of pride, integrity and honor. Natsiq knows, that deep down, there is nothing she wouldn't do to protect her people and the people she loves. 

And whilst this is the way things are and have almost always been, if push came to shove Natsiq would be a brave and strong warrior. Maybe that is why she happens to be a follower of Hokroni, because she believes her people have the right to be defended to her dying breathe. It's strange but she had talked to a great number of people that have felt that way. They would break Hokroni rules if they need to protect their own or anything like that but all of that is included and part of Hokroni rule. Natsiq can't imagine life without it. Tauret can, a live like those she saw around her. The Highlanders team 406 had been stationed with freaked out at the idea of a created magical creature, which is fair they are very scary, very powerful opponents, but to runaway, to hide, to not defend your own border? Tauret can imagine life without Hokroni and it seems disgusting and wrong. 

Tauret runs her fingers across the banner she brought back, she left word that she needed Musfira for whenever Musfira came back to camp. But for the moment she had a few ideas of her own for what to put up there. "What could ever be of more value than friends, the love we share with others and they share with us? There need be no strife or violence that all learn to be happy and joyful with bring harm to others."

"Nice and I like it but I see your quote and it raise it," Musfira declares coming towards them, a book of teachings in her hand, "When there is peace, neighbors can help each other and the wealth of warm, comfort and food can be spread so that all may live eye to eye no better than the other, simple different."

Natsiq's eyebrows purse, "You guys are being unrealistic. You can't a quote all about love and peace, this is Westmere we're talking about. You need a quote of power and excellence." The foreign warriors cock their heads in confusion. Is there such a thing?

"It would seem that with the way men chose to live, people of this beautiful kingdom we call earth will always know war. But maybe in years to come there will not just be strength or wisdom, kept in separate houses, but unity so that no one singular can be more powerful than the whole nor one wiser than the leader. Peace not held by lovers or fighters but by warriors strongest of all, arm in arm, head to head."


End file.
